War Games
by raykong
Summary: OJR Battle Story: As a lone Zenebas sniper succeeds kill after kill, the Republic responds with a battalion of elite snipers. But what starts as a hunt turns into a dangerous game - and what was once a mission becomes a personal obsession for vengeance.
1. Chapter One

**Author's Notations:**

Rated T+ for occasional violence and strong coarse language

Reviews with honest compliments/criticism welcomed, no trolling or one-word reviews

Acknowledgments to the translators of the Battle Story on the following sites: _Zoids Wiki_,_ Zoidspoison_,_ creativeinsanity_,and_ Zoids US_

The following takes place in **ZAC 2033**, during the events of the **First Central Continent War** (ZAC 2029-2039) of **OJR Battle Story** continuity

.

**Excerpt from "**_**An Oral History of the Sniper**_**"**

**First Edition, Delpoi Archives**

**Nimbus, Albane W.**

_The introduction of the Zoic Android to the modern-day battlefield set the mark for future warfare and made many realize the essential role that these biomechanical behemoths had in warfare. Cheap to produce due to their organic origins, as well as easy to learn how to pilot, the Zoid slowly crept its way into the arsenals of both the Helic Republic and the Zenebas Empire during the First Central Continent War. Eventually the inception of the Zoid culminated in a boom during the Human Arrival, which sparked a new arms race as each side developed one powerful weapon after the other. Each one more deadly than the one before._

_The human ship that crash-landed on Zi in ZAC 2029, 'Globally 3,' was one of seventeen Globally-class ships that had left the human homeworld of Earth. A destructive and nuclear 'world civil war' had left the planet near uninhabitable and the Globally ships were part of a cooperative mission by all the major powers of Earth to set aside their differences and locate planets capable of supporting life. Though it was through accidental mutiny onboard between the ship's military staff and some merchants that led to the crash-landing of the ship on Zi, ironically enough it was perfect for the endangered human race. Humans and Zoidians share at least 98.79% (to the tenth percentile, Edwards, 189) of their DNA, and Earth and Zi have similar geographical and to a certain extent; climatic features. Over one half of the Globally 3's passengers were people with backgrounds in various fields of technological disciplines, and many were also associated with the military as well; due to the world civil war's conscription policy._

_Attributed to Zi's small size and having the majority of its population located in a single Pangaea-style supercontinent, globalization had already been achieved in the planet prior to the arrival of humans. This made the introduction of human culture that much easier as multiple facets of the human lifestyle proved popular amongst the Zoidians. As the second year since the Human Arrival ended, more than half the planet already spoke the primary lingua Franca of humanity, English, having had replaced the traditional Ancient Zoidian. Humanity's traits were being integrated into Zi itself and the armies took advantage of this, using human technology to upgrade the development of Zoids. Prior to the Arrival, many military analysts did not consider Zoids as quintessential to the battlefield and that they should merely serve as mass-produced armor transport in the form of smaller Zoids like the early Garius or Glidoler units. It was with human-pioneered tactics and systems that Zoids evolved from cheap substitutes to fully-fledged combat machines and made them what they are today._

_As the Zoid concept slowly became the core of every military, the humans furthered their influence by introducing more concepts to Zoid warfare including squad systems, air support, and proper rank hierarchies. But by far one of the most revolutionary concepts that humanity introduced was the concept of the sniper, the stealthy role of support played by a lone Zoid. Whilst all those human contributions listed above already existed loosely in the Zoidian armies, the sniper was a wholly new idea, a covert agent who could support combat operations by delivering long-range precision fire - creating casualties and slowing movement, playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse with the enemy._

_.  
_

**1810 hours, Sep 7****th**

**Khamer-River town **_**Yeil**_**, Delpoi**

"Mark."

_Crack!_ The rifle mounted on the tip of the Guysack's tail recoiled as the bullet left the chamber, soaring into the air. The spent shell casing burst out of the weapon's chamber as it cocked back and fell onto the ground, the five-foot long lead bouncing off the sandy surface as it gracefully descended. Beside the tail rifle was a cockpit, mounted on the tail as well and inside, a Zoids pilot, one of the few elite markswomen of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion of the Republican Army.

"Damn, missed that little critter," Sergeant Ibrik Scylla muttered as she surveyed the battlefield ahead. The x4 setting on her ceiling-mounted field glasses magnified the war-torn situation of the Khamer-River town. Explosions came from every direction as street-to-street fighting erupted and aerial Zoids carpet-bombed the entire town. Behind the burnt-out rubble of what was, moments ago, a monastery laid a surprisingly resilient Zenebas Iguan. Ibrik's brow furrowed as she flipped the switch to cock the bolt and load another cartridge into the rifle's chamber.

"Lucky little bastard, it's like you're invincible." She whispered softly as she switched the field glasses setting back to scope mode and brought her eyes closer to the device, "But this time…hah, this time you're not getting away from the inevitable."

"When have I heard that before," a sarcastic voice muttered over the intercom as it crackled.

Scylla grinned. The source of the childish comment was her partner, and her current spotter, Sergeant Joanna Don. The intercom crackled as Ibrik held on the voice-over button, relaying a comeback to Joanna, who was down in the main cockpit of the Guysack, acting as the pilot of the Zoid.

"Every time I scored a kill," she retorted, "I hope you have your visual settings on plus five."

"I've got them on plus _six_ just to see if you're lying again this time," Joanna replied with a snicker.

"That was a definite kill!"

"Here we go again."

"You just couldn't see it cause you were too busy dealing with that AZ rifle; I saw that Saicurtis blow up in mid-air. From _my _round!"

"Uh-huh, so it wasn't some Cannon Tortoise's anti-air guns?" Joanna answered with a chuckle, "Please, what are the chances of hitting a target in mid-air?"

"Five to none, don't be jealous if you don't have the talent." Ibrik said, quoting from an old Wind Tribe idiom.

"And which one of us has the higher number of kills again?"

"Shut up, if I kill this idiot over here, we'll be on par."

"If. And that's only if I count that Saicurtis."

"Shut up."

Ibrik heard a soft laugh over the intercom and then it was dead. _Peace and silence at last_. The Iguan was still there, squatted underneath all that debris, waiting for some unsuspecting Republican Zoids to pass by so that it could ambush them. The poor fool, blissfully ignorant of that its very spot was its own grave. At her current range, Ibrik did not even require the participation of her spotter for a firing solution to calculate the angle of her bullet. Ibrik smiled to herself as she enjoyed the sensation of challenge right before a hit, she was a trained Zoid sniper and was proud of it too.

The concept of a 'sniper' in the battlefield was relatively new to Zoid warfare. One of the many introductory concepts of the humans after the landed in ZAC 2029, snipers had only just been recently assimilated into the modern Zoid army. Prior to this there were not even rough predecessors to it, sure there were units that served as overwatch to eliminate unseen enemies or potential threats, but it was more of a role than a specialty. It was only after Zoid warfare fully evolved that the importance of a sniper's role came into the spotlight. The Helic Republic wasthe first to attempt this, and the Empire followed soon after. Ibrik and Joanna were one of the many two-member 'sister-squads' of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion, an all-female sniper battalion that operated as individual squads going where they were needed rather than as a single unit.

It was the power of intimidation and fear of the unknown that made snipers so successful. Psychological warfare was a new innovation as well, and the inability to pin down a sniper could cause significant dents in a soldier's morale. Enemy soldiers hated them, calling them 'cheaters' or 'dishonorable,' unwilling to accept the changing status quo of war on Zi. Zoid warfare itself wasn't that old, having started roughly twenty-years ago, but already infantry were beginning to accept its place in the armed forces. Snipers added a whole new layer to the battlefield, a league of trained sharpshooters whose job was to keep its friendlies close and its enemies closer.

This was precisely what Sergeant Ibrik was attempting as she set her sights on the Iguan. Her first shot had fallen off the left by a few degrees; she had missed the minute of angle window. Because she had timed her shot to coincide with the explosion of a falling bomb, the Iguan had not noticed and still kept its entrenched position, most likely still waiting for an opportunity for an ambush. Ibrik was not going to let that happen. Adjusting the rifle by shifting her gyroscopic control, she felt the whole cockpit veer to the right as she lined up the crosshairs projected on her cockpit's screen with the Iguan, aiming directly for the clamshell canopy.

Ibrik let out a breath as she placed her finger on the trigger. At this range, it was almost impossible to miss. Solid rounds always acted like that. Unlike the standard-issue Guysacks, sniper Guysacks had their tail rifles modified, being rebuilt with a cockpit for a sniper to be placed on its mounting bracket to its right. Their rounds were also B-30 heavy armour-piercing centerfire rounds that could endure long distances and not compromise on accuracy, contrary to the standard beam fire. Beam fire was often unpredictable and could disperse due to Zi's natural electromagnetic field if fired too far. Solid bullets didn't have this weakness, but were more susceptible to gravity. It didn't matter much to Ibrik however; even beam fire would not disperse at this distance. 580 yards weren't much to a sniper as skilled as her. She wasn't even going to bother masking her shot with a bomb's detonation.

Checking once again that the on-screen crosshair on the monitor lined up, Ibrik took a deep breath. Her index finger lightly placed some pressure on the trigger as her entire palm gripped the control stick.

"Mark."

She squeezed the trigger and felt the whole cockpit shudder as the rifle fired, launching the hard-nosed projectile into the air. A pocket watch that hung from the fuel indicator dial of the cockpit, a present from Joanna for her 20th birthday, swung like a pendulum with the force. Zooming into the Iguan with her field glasses, it took only a split second before she could spot the round smashing into the clam-like cockpit, tearing apart the armor with devastating accuracy and toppling the whole Zoid over. Ibrik watched with something similar to pride as the dust kicked in the air as the Zoid lost its footing, crashing down onto the ground with a thunderous clatter. Fire and smoked fumed from the cockpit, and Ibrik pushed the glasses back onto its slot on the roof of the canopy, before reclining back on her chair.

"Bulls-eye."

"You didn't mask the shot?" Joanna asked in shock.

"Yeah….so? Not as though I was going to miss…"

"Moons Almighty," was Joanna's sighing answer before tapping could be heard over the line, "I'll catalog that on the computer's kill record."

"And the Saicurtis one?"

"Over my dead bo-"

"Tell you what," Ibrik interrupted, "If on the next mission I bring down two in a row," she offered temptingly, "you catalog that Saicurtis kill."

"Next mission's your turn to be the spotter."

"Ok then, next-next mission."

A mild pause.

"Deal."

Ibrik grinned as she placed her hands folded back on the base of her skull. Surviving another day on the battlefield always lifted up one's spirits. To Ibrik, war resembled a gambling game of some sort…where you took your chances even after you've won once. Where you keep doing it over and over again just for the thrill. Ibrik stole a look at the pocket watch which hung on with its chain and saw that there were only three more minutes remaining on their patrol rotation before they could return back to their base headquarters, codenamed '_Hassin_', just twenty kilometers south from their current location within an improvised spider hole.

"I need to grab some grub and shower," Ibrik said aloud as she heard her gut grumble. _Three minutes, _she thought, _Maybe I can get another unlucky Imperial bastard._ She pulled down the field glasses in a rush again, scanning the burning husks of former buildings. Shards of glass and bomb craters filled the streets. The bodies of both soldiers and innocent civilians littered the streets. There was even the monocoque frame of a downed Storch stuck in between a building. Ibrik increased her resolution again.

It took only a moment before she caught the glint of a Zoid's armor as it approached them. Her lips curled upwards as she switched the setting to fire mode and turned the safety off. The miniature screen beside her gun control flashed '_CLEAR_' as she gripped the fire control.

"Joanna, three o' clock low." she reported.

"Where? I can't see," Joanna replied, "You got a visual?"

"Affirmative. One of the Zenebas newer Zoids, that gorilla one. Three of them."

"They call 'em Hammer Rocks, or so I hear." Joanna replied as she tapped several keys, "We better bug out, ain't no way I'm going against one, let alone three of them. This isn't part of our job description."

"No wait, hold on," Ibrik spoke softly over the intercom, licking her lips, "We might have a chance here." She angled her weapon towards the Hammer Rock at the end of the spear formation that they were in, the one furthest back.

"Might? That's a pretty bloody loose statement," Joanna answered, "No hell no, we pull back." She began to shift the Guysack out of the foxhole it was nestled in, kicking up dirt in the air and dropping off the rubble that was on its back, serving as its camouflage in the urban environment.

"Joanna, stop damnit! You're reveal our position!" Ibrik exclaimed as the crosshair on her monitor shook, "I said stop! Just wait ok, I can handle this!" Joanna reluctantly brought the Guysack to a stop at Ibrik's outburst. The crosshair steadied.

"By the Moons!" Joanna yelled over the intercom, making Ibrik wince at her roaring voice, "Two minutes, that's all I'm giving you."

"I can handle this," Ibrik reaffirmed as she angled her shot higher to make up for the distance. 875 yards; according to the tachymeter. She cross-referenced it with the altimeter just to confirm before getting ready for the shot. Overhead, she could see several Storches dispersing from their formations in the sky. A signal that they were preparing to unload their bombs. That was all Ibrik needed to know when to fire.

"Mark."

Just as the Storches dropped their bombs on the riverside town, creating massive craters and death in their wake, Ibrik fired. The shot fired just as the fireworks began. Smoke blossomed ahead as the ground shook and Ibrik struggled as she tried to see if she had hit her target. Not even the Rock's armored helm could have saved it from her round if it came into contact with the Zoid. Theoretically at least, it should have pierced clean through the enemy Zoid. Ibrik held her breath.

"Damn smoke's everywhere, can't see nothing," Joanna muttered under her breath. Ibrik didn't comment, despite her mutual agreement. The sounds of battle were beginning to fade away into the distance now, as was the smoke. As loose soil floated down from the air and the ash began to disperse, Ibrik spotted her target.

"One down, two to go," she reported over the intercom, a smile plastered on her face.

"Hnn," Joanna grudgingly agreed.

Ibrik kept her eyes trained on her field glasses to see if the other two Zoids had spotted her. They hadn't. _Dolts probably still think that a bomb shard or something caught their poor friend over there._ The Imperial Zoids were standing around their fallen comrade in arms; they were probably having a conversation over the intercom. The thought that a sniper was meters away, watching their every move had not even occurred to them yet. It was something Ibrik used to her advantage, namely, the element of surprise.

"Mark," she said as another explosive dropped. The gun let out a crack as the round exited the barrel and brought down the second Hammer Rock on the far left. It collapsed onto the street, armor splintering from such a fall. The third Hammer Rock's pilot would probably realize by now that a hidden markswoman was the one responsible but Ibrik wouldn't give the bastard the chance to come to that epiphany. She slid her crosshairs towards the final Zoid to unload the last round - before it did the completely unexpected.

"The klutz is charging towards us!" Joanna shouted as the Hammer Rock did just that.

"Yeah, no shit," Ibrik replied sarcastically as she tried to steady her crosshair for a clean shot on the rumbling Rock. The Zoid was shaking too much in its stampede for Ibrik to get one in, if her round hit that thing's 60mm chest armor, it would only give away her position. _Imbecile probably thinks we're somewhere else, probably running in our direction to find cover. Only thing he's going to find here is us._ But Ibrik didn't find comfort in that fact. In a direct melee confrontation, a nimble Zoid like the Guysack had little chance against other Zoids, even small-sized ones like the Hammer Rock.

"Curse him," Ibrik sighed with defeat, "Guess we're done here. Better pull back before he spots us."

"_I can handle this_," Joanna mockingly imitated as she reversed the Zoid, "Deploying smoke dischargers."

Ibrik pushed her field glasses back into their proper place above as she gazed at the Guysack from her elevated position. The tanks filled with ink-like smoke on the sides of the Zoid unlatched themselves from the main torso, the pins flying off with a hiss as the tanks fell on the ground, releasing black smoke in every direction. The gas melded with the smoke that lingered to create an even thicker fog around their Guysack. She felt her entire cockpit tremor as the Guysack slowly crept out of its makeshift foxhole. A cloud of darkness surrounded Ibrik's canopy from all sides, Joanna were her eyes now. But she still had her ears. And they were telling her something wasn't right.

"Joanna, I can hear it. Louder," Ibrik's eyes widened, "It's running! The wretch is running towards us!"

Joanna spat out an Ancient Zoidian swear word over the intercom. The Guysack's frame jerked violently as Joanna pushed the Zoid harder on reverse gear. Ibrik felt more shudders, it sounded like the whole Zoid was going to fall apart as her cockpit trembled. She could feel vibrations, but it didn't seem as though they were moving. They were remaining motionless as far as she could tell.

"Joanna, what's going on down-?"

"Stuck!" Joanna answered disjointedly, "Damn thing's stuck!"

Ibrik heard the engine whirr as it tried to bring the Guysack out of its ditch. Peering down, the sniper could tell that the Zoid's spindly feet had been caught in the wire of the ground. They had dug too deep, digging up the infrastructure of the town's electrical cable network. Sparks began to fly everywhere as the cables became more and more entangled with the struggling Zoid. Ibrik could have sworn that the Zoid was shrieking in agony.

By now the fumes from the smoke dischargers was beginning to disperse, its deployment ineffective and Ibrik could make out the rampaging silhouette of the Hammer Rock through the smoke. It still hadn't noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time. She considered her two options. One was abandoning the sinking ship. And the other, well… Ibrik took a brief second to ponder them before pulling down her field glasses and setting her sights on the Hammer Rock.

"To hell with it," she whispered under her breath as she doped the scope, lowering the resolution so the enemy fit the frame. Once that had been done, she attempted to align her shaky crosshair with the equally shaky Hammer Rock. Sweat poured down her forehead as her fingers tensed over the gun grip. Her eyebrows arched together like a bat's wings and when she saw her window of opportunity, she fired.

_BLAM!_ The bullet flew towards the Hammer Rock with resounding speed as Ibrik spotted its point of impact. The left shoulder pad of the Hammer Rock. Dust blew around that area as chinks of armor fell down. It was a loose shot though, a near miss almost. The pilot probably didn't even feel that and most likely attributed it to a shard of debris or something.

"Joanna, how are we doing down there?" Ibrik asked as she chambered another round.

"Getting there…" was Joanna's response through gritted teeth. Ibrik made out the snapping of some wires as Joanna used the Guysack's jaws to pull the wires out from underneath it.

Ibrik returned her attention back to the Hammer Rock. The distance was closing between them. It was only a matter of time before it noticed them. Ibrik pulled the trigger.

As the round flew into the air, the Hammer Rock descended down a crater in the road, making it narrowly miss the intended victim. But the Hammer Rock had spotted the glint of the scope now. It knew where its target was now. The element of surprise was gone.

"Ah, Moons." Ibrik chambered another round and fired. The round bounced right off the Hammer Rock's torso as the Imperial Zoid began to fire its beam vulcans. Ibrik felt dizzy as the Guysack trembled even more, making her job that much harder. Smog kicked in the air as the Hammer Rock emerged from the foxhole, guns blazing. The deafening sound of the beam vulcans rang in Ibrik's ears as she struggled to remain focused on the target.

_Focus._ She fired another bullet. The round harmlessly missed the Zoid. At any rate at least the Hammer Rock wasn't faring any better. Its constant running was painfully decreasing its accuracy as its rounds zipped past the Guysack. But its purpose wasn't to hit, as Ibrik realized when the Hammer Rock closed the distance and lifted its massive fists into the air before bringing them down on the Guysack…only to distract.

The grinding of metal screeched through Ibrik's ears as she gritted her teeth. The knuckles of the Hammer Rock had crashed down with an unrelenting fury. Joanna had reacted almost instantly and was attempting to hold the Rock at bay with the claws of the Guysack, the pincers encircled around the Rock's fists, keeping them in mid-bay. She wouldn't hold out for long though, Ibrik could tell, as she saw the limbs connecting the claws with the main body of the Guysack were already beginning to bend with the strain. The Hammer Rock seemed to be mocking them, its massive fuselage towering theirs as the pilot increased the hydraulic strength of its arms. The pincers caved in and shattered to pieces as the Hammer Rock crushed the Zoid's arms. Flames and sparks flew from every direction.

"Hell!" Ibrik heard Joanna scream over the intercom. Ibrik braced for cover as the Hammer Rock opened its right fist wide open and brought it over the tail of the Guysack, holding it in its menacing, vice-like grip.

"He's got me!" Ibrik cried. The cockpit shook violently as Ibrik's head clattered against the walls of it, her aviator-style balaclava being her skull's only protection, "Ugly bastard's got me!" Alarms inside the cockpit blared loudly, telling her what she already knew.

"Shoot that prick!" Joanna roared, "Shoot him!"

"Can't…" Ibrik attempted to say as she gripped the gun control as though her life depended on it, "Can't…aim…" The on-screen crosshair shuddered as the Hammer Rock's face came closer.

"Aim, what the hell do you – just shoot the asshole!" Joanna shrieked, her panic doing little to aid Ibrik.

The whole Zoid rumbled as Ibrik tightened her eyes. There it was; the ugly snickering face of the Hammer Rock. Cold, heartless. Ibrik couldn't make out the Zoidian figure inside. And it was Zoidian. _Hhn, Zoidian._ The thought had never occurred to her before. Snipers weren't like that. They weren't like ordinary soldiers who had face-to-face confrontations with their enemies. Snipers were detached – unconnected, their every engagement not personal. _Until now_. Ibrik looked right into the eyes of the son of a bitch and pulled the trigger without remorse.

At near point-blank range the round went off, hurling the Zoids away from each other like opposing magnetic forces. The Rock's hand detached from the Guysack's tail as the round exploded right in its face, shattering the canopy of the gorilla-type Zoid in a blinding flash. The Imperial Zoid staggered back, its arms flailing uselessly as its head exploded, scattering shards of armor before falling prostrate onto the earth in a shattering racket.

Ibrik herself had not been spared from the shot as the entirety of the Guysack's tail had twisted all the way back to an angle of one-thirty degrees. The rapid-fire motion tossed Ibrik back and had she not been wearing her safety harness; her back might have snapped at the force. White-hot smoke sifted from the barrel of the gun and there were spider-web cracks on Ibrik's orange canopy from the kinetic force. Her rifle's scope was completely broken as well, and the image projected on her field glasses by it flickered with static. The once gray tail of the armless Zoid was now covered in soot and ash.

Ibrik struggled to catch her breath in between wheezing gasps. The hydrostatic shock had been staggering, jolting Ibrik's every sense. Gripping her forehead in between her hands, she wiped off the dirty sweat and blinked her eyes multiple times, as if to verify whether or not she had just shot a Hammer Rock head-first with her sniper rifle. Her pocket watch had fallen off from its place and now rested in her lap. The adrenaline inside her was still pumping and she felt oddly snared and claustrophobic in the tight confinements of her cockpit. In one swift motion, she reached out to the cockpit lever and pulled it, resulting in her cockpit's canopy opening up with a whirr.

Fresh air filled her nostrils and she took a deep breath in relief. She clenched and unclenched her fists, doing a routine physical check and noting that her suit's neck brace had snapped during the engagement. She uncurled her fingers and took off her standard-issue pilot balaclava as she observed the mechanical carcass of the Hammer Rock. The flames from the shot were still burning and the prints in the mud where its fists had once been still visible. There were even a few lingering fragments of the Rock's armor still falling from the air like rain from heaven. Ibrik quickly turned her gaze away when she heard a crackle over the intercom.

"L-Le-_kzzzz_-t's not ever do that again," Joanna said over the fuzzy intercom.

"Yeah, let's not." Ibrik replied.

"Look at that." Joanna whistled, "Look at that, Ibrik…that's what we're gonna be one day if you keep this reckless behavior up."

Ibrik glanced downwards at the Hammer Rock once more. The corpse of the former Zoid was smoldering, its armor literally melting from the heat of the burning engine. A moment ago when the Imperial Zoid was dominating them, when it had prepared for the coup de grace, Ibrik spotted the silhouette of the pilot inside. Nothing personal, just doing my job, seemed to be what he or she was saying. As though the justification that this was your 'occupation' excluded it from what it as about to commit. Murder, pure and simple. Ibrik felt apathetic as she looked at the Zoid. She tried to sympathize, tried to feel sorry. After a while she stopped struggling to, and fell back on her seat. _Nothing personal_, she thought to herself.

"That was close."

"Definitely too close." Ibrik ratified.

After a second of silence, they both went back to work. Joanna continued dragging what was left of their Guysack out of the foxhole while Ibrik attempted to contact HQ for aid. Both of them had already forgotten about the kill score by this point.

.

**2122 hours, Sep 7****th**

**TOC, Bivouac **_**Hassin**_

**Base of the 5****th**** Republican Zoic Android Brigade Group**

**Twenty kilometers southeast of **_**Yeil**_

"Sir, authenticated and coded telegram Aveq-119 received," a radioman reported as he tapped several keys on the keyboard, "Translating."

Lieutenant Colonel Grant Wash of the 6th Zoic Android Assault Battalion (_6__th__ ZABN_) strode over the radioman and reached out for the paper just as it exited the telegraph. _Aveq-119? _The lieutenant colonel frowned, recognizing the alphanumerical code for an executive order. Tearing the flimsy paper from the machine, he then walked over to the ray of light from an overhead halogen lamp and narrowed his eyes, trying to read the fine black print.

"By the almighty Moons of the heavens," his superior, Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus swore as he flipped through the stack of telegrams received in the last two hours, "These report circulations drive me up the wall. Look at this one, Grant. 'Republic Supercannon prototype.' Why are we wasting our taxes on this unnecessary bull? And this one, reports about that Gambino guy, the one whose men defected? Honorable suicide my ass."

The colonel paused briefly and glanced over at his subordinate when he realized that he might as well be talking to a stone wall. The man was soaked in tense perspiration and his eyes darted across the page like a machine-gun unloading its bandoliers. Amadeus paced over to his side.

"Lt. Colonel, you alright?" Colonel Amadeus asked, his eyes suspiciously squinting as he spotted Wash's hands shaking and intense focus on the paper in his clammy grip, "What's that you have there, let me see."

The lieutenant colonel complied without a word, handing over paper with several pictures attached via paperclip on it. Colonel Amadeus held it firmly with one gloved hand and scanned the page with his eagle-like eyes. By the time he had completed the first paragraph and had a peek through those pictures, a look of fear had already crept onto his face. Fear. On the colonel's face, it was nearly unheard of. Even the radioman took notice and turned from his post, his expression one of anxiety.

"Moons almighty," Amadeus whispered. He shared a look with Lt. Colonel Wash. Wash nodded. Amadeus proceeded to adjust his tight collar. "I heard one of them generals talking about this before – this Zenebas punk. If he's coming…then what of our operation?" He took another fleeting look at the attached pictures, satellite photos of Republican Zoids laid to waste, their biomechanical body parts visible with the resolution, strewn across the entire city whilst the city's buildings and infrastructure remained fairly intact.

"They call him 'Kreep,' according to what I heard," Lt. Colonel Wash mentioned, "Comes from that old myth, sir. Have you ever heard of it, sir?"

"Kreep, the worm who ate the wicked." Colonel Amadeus replied, familiar with the ancient folktale, "If he's already past the Red River border and approaching fast to the Khamer…we'd best be on our guard." Lt. Colonel Wash nodded in response. Colonel Amadeus took in a sharp intake of breath before launching pre-emptive orders.

"Set the alert standby one notch higher, increase recon perimeter by twenty-five and post officers of the watch further off the boundary. Set the whole brigade on high alert, even combat service support battalions like the Medical, Ordnance, hell, even the Finance Battalion just in case! I want routine rotations of patrols on the towns around the river, specifically the northern ones like Amal or Yeil. Make sure there are no Zenebas soldiers creeping in under our radar and tell our guys and gals to keep an eye out for this 'Kreep.' I want him dead before our offensive launches." the colonel ordered with a firm and controlled cadence. Yet one could still sense the restrained anxiety in his voice, as hard as the man tried to hide it.

"Sir," Lt. Colonel Wash began, "Might I recommend consulting Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe of the 16th SSBN? This seems to be her field of specialty."

"The human one?" the colonel asked, struggling to recall her.

"Yes sir, there _is _only one human CO in this brigade." Wash confirmed, "Her battalion specializes in marksmanship, 'sniping' I believe the politically correct term is. The 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion? We might have a higher chance of tagging this Kreep if we have sharpshooters of our own on our side."

The colonel frowned for a moment, contemplating the lieutenant colonel's suggestion before speaking, "All right very well, have this Officer…'Giuseppe' present in the war-room at 2300 hours. No scratch that, I want all four ZABN lieutenant colonels to be there, you included. You are dismissed, lieutenant colonel."

Lt. Colonel Wash snapped into action, saluting the colonel once and clicking his boots together before exiting the tactical operations center to fulfill his duty. The colonel meanwhile, had slumped onto the commanding seat and was thoughtfully analyzing the pictures he had been given. Incredible really, how a single pilot could wipe out nearly ten to twelve fully-armed Zoids. Surely amidst the chaos someone must have caught the Imperial worm. But for every engagement that this so-called 'Kreep' was spotted at, none had made it out alive. _If you racked up all of this Kreep's so-called 'kills' as of now, he'd be a certified ace,_ Amadeus noted drily, _As if I don't already have enough on my plate…_

Colonel Amadeus had already considered the possibility of this 'Kreep' being a tool of propaganda. A fictitious savior of the Zenebas army and a way to motivate them. A war legend. But one of the pictures attached said otherwise. It was a shaky and blurred image, taken from the visual readouts of the black box of a Republican Zoid in its last moments of operations. A shimmer of red. And a black blur that was clearly a modified rifle mounted on its back. _What kind of an idiot would paint his entire Zoid red? _Amadeus wondered, utterly bewildered, Sure, most Imperial Zoids were painted red but the bulk of their frame was a gunmetal grey. Most field Zoids had toned down reds as well, some of them had entirely new paint schemes for different environments, to add. In an urban one, one would expect a Zenebas pilot to stick with the default one, but this Kreep had done the absurd by painting the entire thing bright red. _He might as well paint crosshairs on his cockpit._

The colonel breathed out a heavy sigh and reached into a desk drawer for a 200ml bottle of ether, pouring the ethyl alcoholic beverage into a small cup. _It doesn't matter how good this Kreep thinks he is, _Amadeus assured himself as he readied himself to take a swig, _as long as the offensive is successful, I don't think we'll end up like the rest of these sorry bastards. It's an exec order but…maybe…_

He took another squint down at the images. The mutilated bodies of the Zoids torn apart by hard hitting rounds. The split head of a Snakes unit. The Godos that must have been shot off a roof and fallen down; impaling itself on a cemetery gate's spire. Amadeus shuddered and quickly poured the drink back into its proper place before slipping both the bottle and the cup back into the drawer. He shook his head in an attempt to stop living in fantasies as he got off his seat.

"Sir?" the radioman asked as the colonel's imposing shape approached him.

"Um…" Colonel Amadeus droned, dragging the last syllable as he brooded, "Boy, contact Chaplain Titus. Tell him to meet me in my quarters in an hour. Tell him…" the colonel paused again, slightly embarrassed at what he was about to say, "Tell him I want him there for a confessional."

The radioman looked slightly worried at the colonel's request; it was the first time he had asked for the chaplain. As the radioman swirled his chair back to the console to contact Chaplain Titus, Colonel Amadeus walked out of the tactical operations center.

"Moons help us all."


	2. Chapter Two

**Excerpt from transcript 'Concerning Central Continent Literature and Culture'**

**By Assistant Director of the Delpoi Folklore Society (DFS), Tita Breeze**

**Conducted 26****th**** April, ZAC 2040 at 9****th**** Annual DFS Congregation**

…_It was a tale common amongst the people of the Earth Tribe, that the source of the tectonic instability in the earliest days of the advent calendar was a massive subterranean annelid known only as 'Kreep.' Its name is derived from the Earth Tribe's dialect word for 'the worm who eats.' Though there are many different variations of the story throughout the generations, the oldest primary media record dates back to ZAC 998, written in a manuscript anthologized in several scrolls, found under the catacombs of what is now Helic City. These scrolls speak of Kreep as the sword of the Moons, the angel who served its masters. Legend has it that Kreep was sent by the Moons above to watch the people of Zi and punish them for their wrongs. It was said that the worm sneaks unsuspectingly under the ground, hidden from plain sight and searching for evil men and women before surging out of the earth and devouring the wicked._

_Eerily enough, when Helic Muroa managed to bind the warring tribes of Delpoi together when he instigated an 'assault' from the tribes of the Dark Continent, these tectonic disturbances stopped occurring and even more strangely, began occurring again during the Central Continent War. One can't help but wonder if there is some connection, no matter how irrational, there is between these whispering legends and the actual truth. Some of you might clearly be skeptical about this. I am aware that with the introduction of so many new innovations of technology and science by the humans have definitely helped this planet improve as both a race and a developing civilization, but I hope that we do not lose sight of our cultural roots and heritage in the process…_

_.  
_

**0014 hours, Sep 8****th**

**War-Room, Bivouac **_**Hassin**_

Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion crossed her arms tightly as she gazed at the war-room's clock. _2414 hours_, Claudia noted, _an hour or so late._ She sighed. Rumor had it that the colonel had called the chaplain to his room for a 'confessional,' apparently the colonel was stressed out by something – so stressed that he had fallen back on religious deities. Claudia wasn't one for religion, back on her home-planet of Earth, an ultimatum known as '_dictum sabbathia_' had been issued, which banned the practice of any form of organized religion. She hadn't known any higher presence since her birth, rather, she preferred to put her trust in more grounded things like skill and will.

Both had been useful during her time on the battlefield. She was only sixteen when she arrived on Zi and signed up for the Republican Army's then-developing Zoids program. One of the first markswomen of the army, she had passed her cadre's selection process with flying colors and was also one of the few awarded by the Republican High Command a marksmanship award known as the Sniper Master's Badge after her impressive performance in the Battle for the Red River. She still had it on with her and she wore that badge proudly, a third-grade Sniper Master's Badge for seventy-two enemy kills. Of course, she never wore it into actual combat. One couldn't expect the enemy to be particularly lenient to a sniper POW.

"Where the hell is he?" Lt. Colonel Amos Mohinder, the head of the 17th ZABN exclaimed abruptly. Claudia jolted back into awareness. The 17th ZABN CO's whining had caused several others from fading into sleep as well.

"Give the man time," Lt. Colonel Wash answered with a sigh. He had been saying permutations of that exact sentence for an hour now. Exhaustion from a day's work was taking its toll on everyone, and Wash's tone showed that even he was struggling to keep his resolve.

Claudia glanced around the room. Annabella Imprin of the 8th ZABN had already fallen asleep on the table, her cheek and arms sprawled all over the map of the Central Continent while Mohinder sat on a chair, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. Wash was fiddling with his collar, trying to get an itching spot whilst the final ZABN commanding officer, Dakon Flengéle, was smoking a cigar despite the fact that that was against campus rules.

Flengéle took a puff before voicing his opinion, "I think the old man's gone soft."

"What's wrong with praying to the Moons?" Wash asked, keeping his tone cautiously and pacifistically neutral. Despite the fact that worship of Zi's three natural satellites was the global religion of the planet, some Zoidians were slowly becoming a little more dubious of it with the advent of both technology and the arrival of humans. All of a sudden the Zoidians didn't feel so important now that they knew there were others like them out there.

"Nothing, I guess," Flengéle admitted, "Just seems out of character for the colonel."

Claudia silently agreed but did not say anything. She felt awkward being in the war-room; generally the 16th SSBN was a support battalion and did not engage in the planning stages of the brigade. Only these select four ZABN superiors and the colonel machinated the plans, support battalions like hers just followed orders. Everything that happened inside the war-room was strictly confidential as well. Rank-wise, she was at least one pay grade below everyone else in the room, hell, she'd probably only been into the war-room two or three times at the most. Claudia was fully aware that the meeting here was to plan how to repel the invading Zenebas forces from the north-west, who were pushing into the Khamer, but why she was here was anyone's guess. But the colonel had specifically requested her presence and her well-trained senses told her that chances are, it probably had something to do with her battalion's 'expertise.'

Wash was being awfully quiet as well. He was more or less the right-hand man of the colonel, a soft-spoken individual with a brilliant tactical mind and someone who was absolutely ruthless in battle. He had remained impertinent about revealing what was troubling the colonel and what the meeting had been called for, though it was fairly evident that he knew. Claudia didn't prod him; Wash didn't crack easily under pressure. But still, the reasons bugged at her, like a nimbostratus cloud hanging over her and she itched to find out why her attendance was required.

_Guess I'll find out now,_ she told herself as she smiled silently at the coincidence as the colonel himself suddenly strode into the room. Near instantly, as though a current of electricity had just surged throughout the room's occupants, everyone immediately strapped up to attention. Even the slumbering Imprin, who was shaken awake by Mohinder, rubbed her groggy eyes and saluted the colonel. Flengéle crushed his cigar skillfully under the table before slipping it into his rear pocket. Claudia herself, despite her sleep-deprived brain and body, forced herself to stand straight and salute her commanding officer. The colonel put a stop to it all with a wave of his hands as he strode over to the discussion table, a thick binder in his hand. Claudia grimaced as she caught his expression.

Colonel Amadeus' face was grim, the expression one would expect from a man on death row. His black hair was messy as was his stubble, with the occasional white strand and his plump physique seemed to sag with him as he walked, his coarse and oily skin reflecting off in the dim light. _What could be so foreboding?_ The gunnery sergeant speculated the possibilities as she reached for a chair at the table, but none seem to come to mind. As the other lieutenant colonels took their own seats, the Colonel sat himself down and opened the binder with a heavy sigh. Inside were several papers and a stack of photos which he then slipped to the center of the table. He propped back on his chair as everyone else except Wash scrambled to get a look of the photos.

A curtain of silence swept across the entire congregation. Looks of disbelief and horror smeared themselves on everyone's face. Even Flengéle for once had nothing to say. Claudia herself nearly felt her jaw slip down comically. Her eyes widened as she looked at two of the satellite-taken images. Towns filled with the dead carcasses of Republican Zoids. All of a sudden she finally understood what the idiom 'butterflies in the stomach' meant.

"Moons Almighty." Imprin finally whispered after a long and awkward moment of dead air, "Those poor bastards."

"…What…happened, sir?" Mohinder asked, stuttering somewhat.

"An executive order came just several hours ago to eliminate the Zenebas asset that caused this destruction. Interception of Zenebas communiqués by our own cryptographers tells us that this asset's callsign is 'Kreep,' aside from that we do not know much." The colonel scampered through the pile of images and selected the one showcasing the red blur, "Here's all we have of this Kreep. We don't know anything aside from the fact that it's being accompanied by stationary Zoid decoys, all of which are painted red. How it looks like. Nothing. Only thing going through its victims' corpses tell us is that it uses a 70mm bullet."

"Leading intelligence to believe that this 'Kreep' is a _sniper_ unit. Tactics and its modus operandi seem to fit the profile, which is why I've requested your presence, Officer," the colonel explained as he glanced at Claudia, "Because this brigade has sniper units and is the closest to the Khamer, we have been mobilized on a man hunt for this Kreep. We are already aware that Zenebas forces have forced us to retreat from the Red and into the Khamer. They're closing in on us. We can expect this Kreep to arrive as well. That serves as a problem towards our fallback plan, which was to initiate an aggressive hold-the-front assault in the event that the Red forces pulled back. Until we find this Zenebas sniper…I'm afraid the assault's been put on hold."

A fleet of murmurs began to circle around the room and even Claudia found herself somewhat taken aback. Now the colonel's sudden epiphany didn't appear so much as an overreaction. Now she understood the gravity of the predicament, a whole brigade being mobilized for an enemy with no face. It only made her realize how dire circumstances were.

"The whole fuc-" Mohinder began before being cut off.

"The whole battalion, Lt. Colonel. Over the course of three days only, as well." Colonel Amadeus affirmed. Mohinder placed a fist to his lips as he let out a sharp breath.

"Kreep? As in the worm?" Imprin asked. Claudia wanted to ask what in hell a worm had to do with the callsign, but politely held her own thoughts back.

"Yes, the worm. Kreep." The colonel answered with a gesture, "Beginning with a K. The Earth Tribe legend, not the English verb."

Flengéle coughed politely as he posed his queries, "Sir, how do we know for sure that there is only one single unit, if there are no survivors or witnesses to tell the tale? And how do we know this unit is a…" he said the next word with a near condescending tone, "…_sniper_?"

Claudia raised one eyebrow suggestively at the 19th ZABN commanding officer's intonation but the colonel was direct to the point in his response, "Yes, Flengéle, we know for sure that there is only one single unit. According to this report, a complete correlation by the forensics department of all the dead Zoids' black boxes has been made which _do_ show the presence of several other Zenebas Zoids, generally irrelevant ones like Gators or Iguans. They were painted red as well. Funny thing was, we never found any bodies in the Republican Zoids we recovered. 'Cept dead ones."

"He's using them as cannon fodder…using those Gators…Iguans as decoys…" Claudia suddenly muttered, her sniper training instinctually coming to a disclosure. _Using so many decoys just for a single unit?_

"That is the prevailing opinion," the colonel said in agreement, "But none of the Zoids showed deaths from these units. Most simply went offline in a second and in the clips of those that did, the sound of a crack can be heard. The sonic boom of a high-precision rifle. The 70mm round found in these units matches it as well; each one from all the towns in the Red River this 'Kreep' was sighted."

"It does make logical sense, sir," Claudia acknowledged, "A sniper's primary goal is to support a larger combat unit, but you can do the flipside and have the combat unit serve as distractions for a sniper to take down priority targets undisturbed. Kreep might also have used them to keep the enemy busy while he-or she, stalked for vantage points or noted enemy strength. The small group was protected by Kreep and the number also made defending them more manageable."

"Your second question is answered then, Flengéle." The colonel finished off.

"Surely someone must have heard this…sonic boom then, sir?" Mohinder inquired.

"The sound of gunfire can significantly mask the sound of sniper fire." Claudia answered for the colonel, suddenly feeling as though she was taking the spotlight, "Even if they did hear it and tried to locate the starting point of the sound, this 'Kreep' might have relocated. Snipers often relocate after a few shots to confuse the enemy and for the human…or Zoidian ear to accurately pinpoint where a shot's origin is…the person in question needs to be at least five-hundred to five-hundred and twenty meters from the origin point."

Flengéle made a rude noise but Claudia ignored him, "What were the time parameters of these shots, sir? Do you know?"

Wash held up a sheet of paper to the light to read the fine print as he noted, "A mean average of nine seconds in each interval, with the pattern of a deviation included; a thirty-second interval more or less."

"The time between shots, and the time between his relocation, right?" Imprin asked Claudia, who nodded.

"Kreep's being patient. Taking time between shots to make sure they hit true. One shot; one kill. The sniper's adage."

"It's red." Mohinder obtusely commented as he scanned the blurred image, "I thought snipers were meant to camouflage? I don't think red blends well with the urban environment."

"For all we know, it might not be a Zoid. That might not be him, even," Wash reasoned, "It could be something else maybe, a burning Zenebas flag?"

"Possible." Mohinder quipped, too tired to debate.

"Gunnery Officer," the colonel suddenly interrupted, "I know it's abrupt, but do you already have a general outline for a proposal in mind?"

Claudia coughed uncomfortably as all eyes were turned on her. The cogs and gears in her head were already spinning into action – suddenly her presence here was understood by Claudia. Taking a subtle breath, she began, "Under the assumption that this Kreep is a sniper, the best course of action during combat would be to pull a bluff, sir." Claudia offered.

"Bluff?" Wash said aloud.

"Elaborate," the colonel ordered.

"We need to lure him out, sir," Claudia explained, "Zenebas cantonments have already been set up in the towns a little northern, like Amal or Yeil. If we assume that Kreep is advancing towards one of them, more likely to be Yeil, we could create our own distraction by using our assault towards Zenebas forces there. We don't alter the plan, sir, simply integrate it. Rather than hunting Kreep down prior to this assault, we launch the offensive and then kill Kreep in the process. It'll significantly lower casualties caused by this 'Kreep,' and also keep rumors of Zenebas marksman down. Amidst the crossfire, it would be hard for a sniper, even a seasoned one, to locate targets. Our own counter-sniper fire will be masked by it as well."

"We have an ace up our sleeves too, Kreep is not aware that we have snipers of our own on our side. Our snipers could now act as counter-snipers and instead use the general forces to act as distractions so that it could give the chance for my SSBN women to take down this Kreep. It's an assault; paired with a hunt. Two birds; one stone."

"Two birds…one stone?" Flengéle said with a sneer, obviously unfamiliar with the largely human idiom.

The colonel toyed with his stubble as he mused, "A competent strategy you have there, officer. You seem fairly confident in your tactic, though it still doesn't ease me. We are facing a bogey right now; we have no knowledge of what it is, its capabilities, and its weaknesses. We have nothing on our sides. Make no mistake, soldiers; I fear there will be casualties in this."

Colonel Amadeus stretched out his arms to smoothen the Delpoi map on the table as he reached for a case of geometrical tools, compasses, rulers and such while the other lieutenant colonels and Claudia herself eased closer to the table surface.

The colonel cracked his knuckles as he brought his resolve back together. _Apparently the chaplain did provide some comfort_, Claudia remarked to herself. She could tell Colonel Amadeus was trying to shape himself up to be the competent leader he was supposed to be. She felt a slight tinge of newfound respect for her CO.

"It's nearly going to be dawn now, and we don't have much time to form a battle plan." Colonel Amadeus said as reached for a marker, "Let's begin."

.

**1438 hours, Sep 9th**

**Khamer-River town **_**Yeil**_**, Delpoi**

Sergeant Ibrik Scylla pushed the bullet-ridden door aside as she exited the washroom. Zipping her pants back up in one swift motion, she made her way over to the whirring Guysack where her partner Joanna Don was waiting. The Guysack had had extensive repairs by the engineering battalion, supervised by Ibrik herself after their encounter with the Hammer Rock. It was in full operational status, aside from its right pincer, which was deemed unfit for service and had to be 'amputated' off the Zoid without administered painkillers.

The Zoid had not moved from its sniping position at all, in fact it had barely even shifted a step for the last three hours from its post on the second floor of what was once a Yeilian hotel. The bombed-out skeleton of the building provided the perfect sniping spot for them, despite the five-meter ceiling restriction, which meant that the Guysack's tail had to be pressed down on its back for the Zoid to fit, another reason why generally smaller Zoids were chosen for the role of a sniper. Still, it was an ideal location for their mission objective, which was hunting down the Zenebas asset known as 'Kreep.' Only thing Gunnery Officer Giuseppe had told them was to look out for anything 'red.'

Tension and unease had filled the entire brigade as the mass mobilization coded as 'Operation Season' began. The entirety of the 6th ZABN had scrambled into action early yesterday morning, when it was just the break of dawn and had swarmed into the Khamer-River towns, crossing the DMZs that had separated the Republic from the Zenebas forces. Whilst the other units were mounting their assaults, the snipers of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion had been split into individual towns, moving into position, keeping their Zoids concealed in the most creative of hiding spots to snipe the enemy. The order was clear and simple: _Find Kreep, kill Kreep. One shot; one kill_.

_One shot; one kill_, the sniper's motto rang through Ibrik's mind as she mounted herself back up into her cockpit on the scorpion-type Zoid's tail. Despite that she, like most Zoids pilots, had been taught to be able to minimize water consumption and refrain from urinating during operational times, Ibrik couldn't resist emptying her tight bladder when she had spotted the hotel's bathroom. Joanna, on the other hand, wasn't willing to take the chance.

"It took you five minutes to piss and climb back up there." Joanna buzzed just as Ibrik slipped into her cockpit and placed her comm link headphones on.

"You actually counted?" Ibrik asked with a laugh as she clipped her safety harness on.

"Just imagine, in that five minutes, someone spots Kreep. And we miss the shot, we can't take it. Why?" Joanna said, stressing every syllable with an exaggerated tone, "Because Sergeant Scylla needed a potty break."

"I wasn't shitting," Ibrik said in her defense, somewhat lamely. Joanna did have a point, but Ibrik found she was somewhat unwound. They were given strict orders not to engage enemies, as it ran the risk of revealing their spots. The agitation had somewhat dissipated after one day and several additional hours in the same posture.

"We can't take risks like that, Ibrik," Joanna said, frustrated at her friend's trivialness on the matter, "From what Officer Giuseppe said, this Kreep is dangerous; you can't just let your guard slip because you're bored! You have to stay frosty."

"I know, damn it-"

"Wait, shh, hold on," Joanna discontinued her friend, "Turn on the open channel on your wireless."

Ibrik decided to let the argument and dropped and switched the Republican channel on, sending a flood of messages into her pinging device. The machine slowly registered the coded messages and a flock of reports burst onto her small monitor screen just below her joystick controls. Ibrik felt her throat dry up as she scanned through them. Suddenly her sniper grounding kicked into full alert status.

"Kreep is advancing." Ibrik said, paraphrasing straight from the reports, "Wouldn't Kreep fall back? In between all these firefights?"

"Maybe Kreep's just insane in the brain," said Joanna with a monotone, "Moment we get reports about Kreep sightings, people suddenly drop. He's revising his sniper strategy."

"He's lost it, look at this one, he's even branching off from his own decoys apparently. He's acting like an assault unit now."

"True. But then again maybe he can afford it. Like if he's a superweapon-type thing." Joanna replied in agreement before arbitrarily commenting, "Funny how we refer to Kreep as a male, don't you think?"

"_He_ is the generally accepted singular personal pronoun for the English language," Ibrik answered after a momentary pause, "You hear humans saying _he_ this, and _he_ that. Only time it's a _she_ is when they're talking about Zoids."

"Or ships."

"Or ships. Or planes. Sometim-"

"Don! Scylla!" a voice suddenly interrupted through the channel. Ibrik recognized it as belonging to Private Hensel Permagunde, the sniper of the _other _Guysack unit in the vicinity and a relatively new addition to the ranks of the 16th SSBN, "Stock exchange building, across the road, third-floor window, second from the right! Look!" The private's high-pitched voice was nearly bursting with excitement.

"What is it?" Ibrik said out loud as she pulled down the field glasses from above her and slowly maneuvered it to locate the window that Permagunde was indicating. It took a moment for Ibrik to find where Permagunde was indicating to, these river towns often had confusing Water Tribe-style architecture, curved and parabolic arches like the ocean, what some humans had referred to as 'post-modernist-esque' design, whatever the hell that meant. When she located the correct window though, she found the source of the private's discomposure. A red gleam.

"Is that him? Is that Kreep?" Ibrik asked, barely able to contain her trepidation.

"Maybe it's an optical illusion? Like a trick of the light thing?" Joanna asked out loud. Ibrik had considered that. It didn't seem right that a skilled marksman would conceal himself behind a piece of glass. A _translucent _piece of glass, no less. Then again, Joanna did say he's probably insane. Painting a sniper Zoid _red_ was already insane.

"This is it, ladies," Sergeant Tec Kempfer, Permagunde's spotter said exultantly, "This is the perfect situation – where we can see him but he can't see us."

"I don't know…" Joanna said apprehensively, "Shouldn't he already be aware that there are snipers, I mean reports say he did drop some SSBN members as well. How does it look like from your vantage point?"

"Can't see clearly, even with the maximum x7 magnification," Kempfer answered from her position high on the roof of an apartment complex, behind a water tank and under a piece of camouflage canvas, "Looks like a red…_smear_ from up here."

"If it ain't him...he'll know we're here if we shoot. Might expose us. Could be a decoy for all we know," Joanna continued.

"And then the hunter becomes the hunted," Kempfer said cynically, "That is a risk I'm willing to take. If we can nail him now… right now, we're dominating. Right now, we're the hunters stalking our game."

"Have you made the call?" Joanna questioned Permagunde.

"Not yet, I'm on it," Permagunde said hurriedly. Ibrik could hear her over the intercom, "Command post, command post. This is SB-17, over. We have a visual on Zenebas asset 'Kreep,' break. Heavily limited view of target background, break. Awaiting further instruction."

Ibrik bit her lip nervously as she heard Permagunde say a few 'yessirs' and 'yes, ma'ams' before breaking contact. She hastily dived in, "Well, what do we do?"

Ibrik would've bet her whole month's pay cheque that Permagunde was grinning from ear to ear as she gave Joanna the reply, "Command wants us to take the shot – if we can. A coordinated one, too. Might not have another chance, and we don't have any other forces to support us. All heavily engaged. Might scare Kreep away too if he sees units closing in."

"Why coordinated?" Ibrik asked before adding sarcastically, "Command worried that one 70-mm round won't leave a big enough hole?"

"Can't risk it, we still don't know what Kreep can do," Permagunde explained, "Plus, it'll confuse him, right?"

"Not at this range, I don't think," Kempfer stated, "But don't quote me on that."

"Sisters…are you sure this is the best thing to do?" Joanna asked, "I mean, command's rushing into it…makes me feel like an expendable."

"Command's probably afraid we won't get another shot, and at any rate, why would the Empire leave a decoy in clear sight without risking the death of their own soldier? It's probably Kreep just going a little mental," Kempfer reasoned, "Now come on, let's lock and load."

"I still don't like it…" was Joanna's only response.

"Hoo boy…" Ibrik said with a whistle as she cracked her neck, feeling the foamy neck brace turn around as she prepared herself both mentally and physically. Radio silence came on impromptu, aside from the most critical of relays. Ibrik could hear Joanna sliding clicks and pressing buttons over the intercom. Ibrik herself started the routine by turning off the safety switch and loading a new round into the chamber. The screen flashed '_CLEAR_.'

"Loaded. Call for fire please," Ibrik said as she pulled down the field glasses once more and kept her sights on the window. Looking at the bearing on top of her glasses, she shifted the Guysack's tail accordingly before pressing down on the intercom once more, "Range it."

"Hold on…" Joanna said, trailing off as she gauged the distance, "80 yards. Stationary."

Ibrik keyed it in and the on-board computer hummed as it concocted a firing solution. Ibrik noted the windage on the stadia marks both left, and right. Carefully, she toyed with the gyroscopes, bringing her reticule onto the target, directing the crosshairs so it was placed squarely at where she predicted Kreep would be. At this distance, she didn't even have to worry about the chevrons for bullet drop.

"Hold scope…" Joanna ordered as she patched herself into Permagunde and Kempfer's channel, "Have you guys got a solution?"

"Roger that," Kempfer answered.

"Fire when ready," Joanna told Ibrik this time.

"On my mark, Permagunde," Ibrik whispered, somehow fearful that Kreep might hear them, "Three. Two."

"Mark."

The two Guysacks fired their sniper rifles in coordination, the sonic booms setting off as their hard-hitting rounds left the barrels with a bang. Ibrik's cockpit jerked back as the rifle fired but she quickly recovered before rushing to put the field glasses on the scan setting. It did not even take a second before the bullets made contact and the window glass split into a firework of shards.

"Hit." Joanna said with a concealed chortle of victory.

Permagunde let out a yell to follow-up Joanna's blazon, "Hell yeah! We got him, Sisters, we got that Imperial? Right? We got him now!"

Ibrik let out a sigh, an exasperated one. She found herself smiling, for the first time in two days. It was as though a strenuous weight had been lifted off her. She'd taken the shot – and she'd won.

"Nice job, Sister," Joanna congratulated over the line, "This one's definitely one to catalog."

"Mission accomplished," Ibrik responded as she closed in on her field glasses to survey the shot.

"I'm calling command right now," Permagunde was practically screaming in ecstasy at this point, "They'll be-"

_CRACK! _Another bullet flew through the air as Ibrik's expression changed. One second she found that the 'red target' they had hit was just a Gator painted red, a decoy, and the next she heard the wireless line with Permagunde and Kempfer go dead. In the tenth of a second that their shots differentiated when they left the barrel, the enemy was able to make out their position. As far as Ibrik knew, only snipers did that – and she had a pretty good guess who as well.

"Damn this, it's him!" Joanna yelled over the line, "Kempfer? Permagunde? You th-ah, crud, he got them!"

"He got them," Ibrik repeated, still somewhat stunned. She quickly panned the Guysack's tail to try to locate the source of the bullet before Joanna cried,

"Ibrik! Stop moving the tail, he'll see-" Just at that moment a second round rang through and narrowly missed Ibrik's cockpit, smashing instead on the cement wall of the hotel with deadly accuracy. Ibrik could see loose plaster scatter from the ceiling above as the bullet sent vibrations through the entire building. She winced at her close brush with death. Joanna, on the other hand, had all senses acute and smartly lowered the Guysack's entire frame until its legs gave way and its belly was flat on the ground, effectively removing whatever visuals Kreep had on them.

"Kempfer? Kempfer?" Ibrik heard Joanna over the connection, "Private? Are you there? If you're still alive, please respond!"

Sweat dripped down Ibrik's forehead as she tightened and loosened her hands into fists, over and over again, an idiosyncrasy of hers that manifested whenever she felt under pressure. She hadn't felt this much pressure since marksmanship school, where the instructors had students jump off ledges to be caught by their partners – just to build trust amongst snipers and spotters. Now, the enemy had the advantage as it knew where they were, and roles had changed. Now, they were the game….and Kreep had become the hunter. Fear gripped Ibrik's very being.

"They're not responding," Joanna said, her tone one of frustration, "But their beacon's still active…Ibrik, switch positions, I'm heading towards them, see if they're still alive. They might have made it out, at least one of them. Bring the Guysack round the back of the building they're on, I'll be waiting there."

Ibrik didn't argue, happy to allow Joanna to take the initiative while she still struggled to grasp hold of their predicament. She pulled the canopy's lever and the entire hatch burst open with a hiss. Beneath her, Joanna did the same with her cockpit and jumped off, giving Ibrik a quick wave of the hand before dashing off towards the hotel's stairs. Ibrik grunted as she removed her harness and unclipped the lowering cable, keeping one foot on the cable's stirrups and one hand on the cable itself as she brought herself a full four-meters down in three seconds. Dismounting from the cable and flicking it once so it reeled itself back up, the sergeant made her way to the main cockpit of the Guysack, jumping once to grip the hand-holds for Zoid desants to heave herself up into the Zoid.

Landing on the cushioned seat, Ibrik glanced sideways at the running figure of Joanna, who could now be seen on the road, dashing somewhat madly towards Permagunde and Kempfer before vanishing into the apartment. Ibrik re-focused her attention back at the instrument panel in front of her, a mass of dials, meters, and buttons that formed the Guysack's main cockpit; a cockpit far more complicated then the sniper one but still one she was far too familiar with. Breathing in one quick, sharp breath of air, she spread her grip over the twin joysticks that commandeered the Guysack's direction and held them tightly. _Pull yourself together, Ibrik. This was exactly what they warned you about at marksmanship school, _Ibrik scolded herself, _and it's all in your head. Kreep is only Zoidian – nothing but a bully. And when bullies shoot you, you shoot the hell back._

With a newfound constancy, Ibrik snapped into action and flicked the LWS switch to green status before reaching for another switch to select the available smoke dispenser on the Guysack's right side. As she yanked the joysticks towards her to lift the Guysack off its prone position, Ibrik simultaneously reached for the cockpit's ceiling and pressed the _START_ button for the smoke dispensers, prompting the right ballast tank to detach and gas out a thick ebony fume around the Guysack. Ibrik smiled grimly, _suck on that, Kreep_.

The smoke scattered itself all around Ibrik's Zoid, keeping her visually shielded from Kreep. Fully aware that the smokescreen was only temporary, Ibrik nimbly jettisoned her Guysack out of the hotel from the second floor and down on the road below, dragging whiffs of black smoke along with her just as she landed on the asphalt with a clatter. A cloud of dust gathered around the Guysack's elongated legs as it crash-landed and Ibrik felt the entire cockpit jerk with the motions. From her current position, she knew that she was out in the open and on her left was where Kreep was most likely to be. With a flowing gesture, she swiped the toggle switch for the left smoke dispenser and activated it, dispersing the black fumes on the road and around her Zoid once more. Now that she was fully assured that the enemy could not see her – and would not risk a long shot and reveal his position, she backtracked her Guysack away from the cloud, distancing herself from Kreep.

_Assuming the elevator's still in service, _Ibrik silently thought, _Joanna should be up on the roof by now. _She pivoted her view upwards and tried to glance at the apartment's roof but at her angle, she couldn't make out if there was anyone there or not. Ibrik did, however, note that the round had pierced the water tank to get to Permagunde and Kempfer, who were most likely taking cover behind a thin surface, a regretful mistake. Water was still dripping off the building's roof and several droplets had made their way onto her dust canopy, obscuring her view as she switched the visual cameras to spotter mode to magnify the distance. A sinking emotion of desolation found its way to Ibrik's heart as she saw a formation of Storches strafing in for the kill. Something that had once been an aid to concealing her shots was about to become her demise.

"Moons Almighty," Ibrik swore. The day just seemed to be one cataclysm after the other. She turned on the radio console and immediately switched to the encoded Republican network. Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed. The Republican offensive had proved particularly damaging, leading the Zenebas to resort to desperate measures, the bomber squadrons of Storches. A retreat order had already been issued but it must have come through during Ibrik's and Joanna's position switch, which would explain why they never received it. Ibrik swore once more. Perhaps Joanna was right about staying frosty after all. On the other hand though, at least this would get this 'Kreep' off their backs, if only temporarily.

_Fall back_. That was the first thought in Ibrik's mind as she accessed the on-screen map of Yeil and calculated the distance from her current location to the edge of the town leading to the river. _About five-hundred meters, I might make it._ The smoke was already beginning to clear out as the wind picked up and the orange silhouettes of the Storches were closing in as well. Ibrik quickly shift the Guysack into reverse gear, falling back behind a small path, a shamble of stalls that had once been a market-place. _Come on, come on, you infernal contraption, get those legs pumping!_ The Guysack's feet thrashed the stalls to shreds and its dull grey paint slowly chipped off as Ibrik toiled to steer the Guysack into a back alley that would safely lead her to the back of the apartment.

"Joanna, where in the name of the Moons are you?" Ibrik muttered as she brought the Guysack to a stop, "Come on….get down here now!" A cacophony of explosions could be heard from the distance and Ibrik knew that the Storches had already begun their attack. It would only be a matter of time before they arrived at her current position. Ibrik unclipped her helmet and safety harness before opening the cockpit and dismounting from it, her heavy combat boots landing on the rocky road with a _thud_. Double-checking that her pilot's sidearm was fully loaded before slipping it into her thigh holster, the sergeant exited out of the alleyway and into the main junction, determined to recover her missing Sister. Far off she could see the Storches slowly approaching, and a mass of smoke and flames that erupted from where their bombs had hit. _Only a matter of time, _Ibrik warned herself as she slipped into the apartment.

The building had suffered badly from the after-effects of war, and Ibrik cringed her nose when she smelled the scents of death and corrosion. Walls had been stripped apart and burn marks were everywhere. The stench of dead bodies crept from every corner and the crevices of the lobby were crawling with insects. Ignoring all of it, Ibrik ran towards the elevator of the floor and pressed the button for a response. None came. _Shit._ Still, the thumping bombs that were itching closer became even louder and louder. _Shit. Shit. Shit. _Ibrik knew she had to make a decision – and before it was too wouldn't be any more time; Ibrik silently worded a prayer to the Moons for Joanna before guiltily dashing straight out of the apartment and onto the main road once more.

She was already too late. Above her the formation of Storches were beginning to release their pylons and drop their bombs onto the streets of Yeil. A bomb landed about thirty meters away from Ibrik, displacing her into the air with a wild toss as she landed on the earth like a ragdoll. The sound ruptured Ibrik's eardrums as she smashed onto the pavement and blood poured from between her broken teeth. The tenor of detonations were ringing in her ears, and as she struggled to stumble to her feet, she could make out more and more bombs being dropped through her blurred vision, tearing up the town and sending splinters of wood and mud into the air. Ibrik coughed out the soot and tried to regain her focus but all sense of navigation was now lost with the shock. All she could do was wobble away before another explosive landed on the street behind her and flailed her body into the air with a violent and blaring force.

Ibrik was tossed above the pavement for a moment before colliding into the glass window of a nearby department store, wrecking the glass with a loud shatter and landing inside the store in an agonizing crack, glass raining from the explosion like snowflakes on a winter's day. Ibrik's vision slowly descended into blackness and the last thing she could make out was the shadow of a tall figure making his way towards her, his hand tightly gripping a pistol.


	3. Chapter Three

_An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind_ – **Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, human political and spiritual leader**

_Always remember the three magic words; please, thank you, and back off, bitch_ – **Anonymous Zoidian scholar**

.**  
**

**1616 hours, Sep 9****th**

**Unknown location**

Ibrik opened her eyes. The first thought that came into her mind was – _where am I? _Her head hurt like hell and her eyes were still somewhat blurred as she looked around at her surroundings. The first thing she sensed was the explosions that seemed to be coming from above. The second was that she was trapped, her arms wrapped towards her chest by something obstructive. As her vision cleared, she looked down and saw that her entire upper half of her body was taped to a column. Her pilot suit had been removed and right in front of her, with his back facing towards her, a seated man, his hands apparently toying with something.

Ibrik could feel the strong sensation of pain from every part of her body, aching in agony. Her lips felt dry with caked blood, her body was soaked in perspiration and blood smears could be visible around her soiled uniform. Glancing down from her seated posture, she saw an improvised fiberglass splint around her right leg, a clear indication of a fractured limb. As she turned her eyes to the linoleum tiled floor around her, she saw cotton swabs soaked with blood, several surgical tools, open bags of clotting foam, as well as an entire aluminum box of removed glass pieces. She could even spot some of her broken teeth that had been plugged out. Ibrik slowly recalled the events that had occurred before she passed out, amazed that she had survived such an event. _Clearly, this man has been busy saving my life_, Ibrik thought as she brought her attention to the man before her.

He was dressed in a faded grey jacket with red highlights, clearly a Zenebas Empire uniform. Besides that, the only other features she could make out of the man was that he had grimy, blond hair and a pistol placed directly next to him. The thought finally struck her – she was a prisoner of war. _Like hell, that's gonna happen, _Ibrik silently thought as she tried to pull herself free from the thick adhesive tape with no success.

An explosion reverberated from above the building. The ceiling shook as dirt sparingly poured from above. Ibrik shuddered as she felt the tremors from the explosion. _The Storches are still bombing – how long was I out for? Where am I…underground? _She gazed down at the brown dust that had begun to gather on her shredded uniform, _a bomb shelter, perhaps?_

"You're awake I see? How are you doing?"

The strangely accented voice made Ibrik jerk unwillingly and she brought her neck up to her savior…or jailor. The man had turned around and approached her before bending down to her eye level. Ibrik kept her eyes steady with her Zenebas captor, despite her bruised left one. The man had fair features, white freckled skin as well as curled blond hair. Even despite the similarities between the two races, she could tell that the man was not of Zi, and was in fact, a human of Earth. The human seemed to grin somewhat when he noticed Ibrik's expression before removing from his belt a canister of water. Pouring some into its cover, he offered it to Ibrik's lips, who gratefully received it, letting the rush of water descend into her throat and wash away the blood. Even after the act of kindness though, Ibrik still kept her grim expression, somewhat worried that she might be tempted or tortured by the enemy. Why else would someone go to such lengths to keep her alive? Ibrik couldn't even think of one piece of valuable information in her head.

"Bloody Storches don't care about little people like you and me, eh, stuck-up Air Force types. No one cares when my Molga gets stuck in the ditch, you know?" the man said, pointing upwards, "Lucky these tunnels can hold us, they used to be secret passageways, for Yeilian piracy back in the day, found out from a friend of mine. Lucky it's still here too. If not, we'd both be dead by now. Well, _you'd_ be dead a long time ago if not for me, you lucky I had my first aid kit on me or you'd be rigor mortis by now." The man chuckled darkly.

"16th SSBN, huh?" the man continued as he lifted her pilot suit, straining the bloody tears on it. Ibrik was surprised that the thing was still in one piece; the only reason why it was issued was that the manganese plates within the neck brace and its fire-retardant nylon gave the pilot a fighting chance in the event that he or she needed to abandon the Zoid or if their Zoid had been damaged. The eject option wasn't available for terrestrial Zoids, generally only aerial ones had them, "What's that stand for?"

Ibrik kept silent. The man smiled again as he sat down, facing her. Ibrik turned her eyes away, instead focusing on whatever he had been working on just now, what appeared to be a checkered black and white board with several oddly-shaped black and white pieces on it. The man followed her gaze before his eyes lit up.

"Chess?" he said, jovially straining the foreign noun, "Would you like to play some? It'll get your brain working, get those muscles pumping again." Ibrik's eyebrow rose as the man scrambled to the checkered board and pushed it towards her, the pieces on it shaking as he moved it with a screech. Bringing it to a pause right before her, the human then proceeded to sit across her, sorting out the pieces with his spider-like fingers, placing each one of them in their proper positions, black on his side, and white on Ibrik's. After completing that task, the man bent back up at Ibrik and laughed at Ibrik's confusion.

"It is a _game_, soldier," the man said with a chuckle, "I know you have those here on Zi."

_This human is bat-shit insane, _Ibrik thought to herself as the man ridiculed her lack of a response, "I know your hands are tied up at the moment, but I am sure you can still reach out for the pieces, yes? Don't worry; chess is simple, a little like your _kheker _too, very easy to learn." The human reached out for one of the black pieces on his side and brought it to eye level, visible enough for Ibrik to see it. It was a tall piece, taller than all the other ones on the board with a cross-like symbol on it.

"Now see, this one – this piece is the king," the man began, "This piece is the leader of all these other pieces," he then did a waving motion around the other pieces on the board, "He's the king, the leader, the mister president, this is him. He can move one space, in any direction," the human then began showing this on the board, emphasizing each move with a _thump_, "And he's the head. When you bring the head down, everyone else falls apart. If I bring your king down, your whole empire collapses, you lose. He's the big guy and holds the most power, but he's so powerful he doesn't do much but sit around, it's up to the rest of these guys to conquer."

"…A bit like the Emperor," the man added drily with a snort of derision. Ibrik couldn't help but find that funny too. She didn't drop her guard however. _I don't know what kind of mind game he's trying to pull, but I'll just play along_.

The human then reached out for another piece, with its top shaped like a chalice with a small circle on top, "Now this one here, this one's the queen. Now the queen…the queen gets stuff done, you know, the queen has the moves. You know, like…like the generals of the army, eh? Like the top dogs. The queen's that. The queen can move anywhere she want, up, down, anywhere at all on the board."

"And what about those smaller ones then, the ones with balls on their head," Ibrik asked, her voice coming out drier and weaker then she had expected it to be. Her pronunciation sounded weird too, coming out from missing gaps in her teeth. The man however, didn't even seem to flinch at the first sound of her voice.

"Lozenge?" the man abruptly offered, raising a yellow-colored piece of candy from his breast pocket. Ibrik nodded and the man popped it into her mouth. Ibrik sucked on it as the human took up one of the pieces with 'balls on their heads,' "Now these ones. These are the pawns. The soldiers. These guys go forward, never back. These guys can never go anywhere they want, they're stuck there – they can only keep going forward, and killing other pieces," the human flicked off one of Ibrik's white pawns with a finger, "They're always on the front-lines, always out in the field."

"So…if they reach the end, do they become the king?" Ibrik asked, assuming that this 'chess' operated somewhat like the Zoidian game of _kheker_.

"No, no, it's not exactly like _kheker_," the human said, shaking his head, "See the king – the king stays the king. The king never drops, not until the other side gets him. See, everything here, stays the same. Except for the pawns." The man picked up one of the pawns of brought it over to Ibrik's end of the board, "When you bring the pawn over, it gets to be queen. It gets to move up, gets…a promotion, you see? Now that it's up there, now it's got the moves."

"Getting these…pawns, to the other end, that's what makes you win?" Ibrik asked, still a little befuddled, "Promoting these pawns?"

"No, no, no. Remember, you gotta kill the king. Use common sense, you ever heard of empires winning if their whole armies are made of generals?" the man asked rhetorically before answering his own question, "No, empires win when they kill the other side's king, they win when they bite off the head of the snake. And they still need these little pawns, these little soldiers to be fodder, to weaken the enemy or die trying."

"Soldiers get killed off really quick here," the man looked at Ibrik, and Ibrik felt somewhat disturbed as the man stared at her straight in the eye and spoke, "In this game, soldiers never win."

.

.

It was nearly two hours later before Ibrik woke up from her slumber to find that her improvised 'cuffs' had been removed and the human and his belongings were nowhere to be found. Her head took some time to recall the events of the past few hours before she realized that she must have fallen asleep whilst playing that human game. The only thing that still remained was Ibrik's pocket watch (which she had kept in her suit's breast pocket after the incident with a Hammer Rock almost damaged it) and it took her five minutes to get the determination to get back on her feet and discover the exit out of the tunnels. She had not even bothered to grab her pilot suit but had dashed out in nothing but the overalls she wore under her suit. The exit out was heavy, a large vault door but Ibrik managed to open it, despite her limp and injuries - the will to survive was powerful as well as the longing to search for Joanna. Eventually, she had made her way out to where she was, out again on the streets of Yeil.

Ibrik noticed the bombings had stopped, and the town had a disconcerting cloud of hush to it with no gunfire or explosions. She then pulled the pocket-watch out of her pants' pocket; it was still in it and untouched. Ibrik peered at the time. 1800 hours, this was around the time when Republican cantonments would begin making their patrols around the periphery of local territory. Sure enough, as she pocketed the watch back in, she made out the headlights of an archaic Hidocker unit along with several others, a squad during after-action patrols. Ibrik waved her burningly tired arms in desperation, and the units immediately took note of her, beaming their shining headlights on her.

As they disembarked and verified that she was a Republican soldier, she stole a glance at the vault-like door hidden behind a cupboard that she had to pull aside when she left the tunnels. To her, it was puzzling, why an enemy had bothered the time to fix her up and capture her rather than kill her on the spot and save the trouble. Ibrik wondered where the strange human was now, and why he had defied the Zenebas creed. Kill all enemies in sight, unlike the more pacifistic Republican one, which allowed POWs. Was sympathy a human thing? Did their soft-hearted brethren have more mercy than the warring Zoidians? Ibrik was confused. Still, she did not tell one of the unit's pilots that she was saved by a Zenebas Samaritan when he had asked about how she survived.

_Thank you_, Ibrik wordlessly addressed him in her mind as she climbed into the Hidocker's cockpit behind one of the pilots and they set off into the night.

.

**1920 hours, Sep 9****th**

**War-Room, Bivouac **_**Hassin**_

"Where's Flengéle?" was the first thing that Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus asked as he entered the war-room, greeted by the glum faces of his subordinates, "Well?" he asked again when no one responded for a tense, awkward second. The room's dim lights only furthered the depressing atmosphere as Amadeus scanned the room's inhabitants. Wash was standing in a corner; Imprin and Mohinder were seated, whilst the human Giuseppe was bent over on the map.

"He's KIA, sir," Lt. Colonel Wash finally spilled out, "Lt. Colonel Flengéle's body was recovered from the cockpit of his Cannon Tortoise, sir."

"A Cannon Tor- why in the Moons' names was he in a Zoid? He was in-battle?" the Colonel yelled in frustration, "He's a lieutenant colonel, he's a desk job soldier! What was he doing in a Zoid?"

"It was his decision according to his battalion, sir," Wash replied, keeping his gaze lowered, "He wanted to lead the assault in Amal, sir."

"And you didn't do anything about it?"

"I was not aware until after reading his men's AARs, sir," Wash answered softly, "I've taken it to my duty to serve as temporary CO of his battalion, sir. I was going to inform you during this meeting. Sir."

The colonel sighed. Flengéle had always been one stubborn idiot, always too concerned with his pride and the winning blow than realistic goals. He was obstinate in everything he did; the lieutenant colonel had even refused to learn the human tongue until it had fully replaced the 1995-character Ancient Zoidian alphabet in most facets of Zoidian life. Flengéle had warrior blood in him, some days the colonel even wondered if he was really of the peace-loving Wind Tribe. The colonel released another sigh, "Mother o' Moons, lieutenant colonels riding Zoids….incredulous…we've already lost enough troops out there."

"Bastards got at least a third of our force, is what I'm guessing," Imprin mentioned.

Amadeus knew the amounts and ignored her, bending down and spreading his palms to smoothen out the creases on the Mercator projection-style map of Zi. The large diagram showed in detail their current location, the largest piece of land on Zi, the Central Continent Delpoi as well as the fabled Dark Continent of Nyx which was uncharted (aside from legends that the mighty King Helic himself had done so) except by satellites so only its shape was known to them. The Daras Ocean was situated between Delpoi and Nyx while the Andar Sea was south of Nyx. Below on the south of Delpoi were the twin oceans of Florecio and Zerros whilst flanking it at the east was where the Sheed Ocean and the Aleus Sea. Amadeus brought his finger back onto the Khamer River on the map.

"We'd have taken Yeil and Amal by today had it not been for the Zenebas strategic bombers," Amadeus said disappointedly, "Unfortunately, it was something that we did not expect. Air force is unable to provide support at the moment, they're still mobilizing. It'll take them days to get here. Radio interceptions did not inform us of anything of the sort and now casualties will rise if we mount another assault. But we'll have to, as planned this will occur tomorrow night under the storm as an infiltration while we hold the front tomorrow daytime. Weather reports will hopefully be consistent. The Zenebas have no doubt begun to reclaim their half of the Khamer River and we'll have to push them back, starting right now. Operation Season has not ended yet, I want all battalions to sortie reserve troops while we recuperate and I want AA Zoids to scramble as contingencies should the bombers come back. Have them at the very least be able to hold out our half of the river. Wheels up in 1930 hours."

Amadeus took one final look at his soldiers, each one of them weary with their nonstop work and slowly losing heart in the operation. It had kicked off perfectly fine and at its apex would have been more than enough to crush the Empire forces in the AOO had it not been for the sudden bombing campaign launched by the Zenebas Air Force. Amadeus had previously denounced himself for not foreseeing that sort of counterattack, despite the fact that the Zenebas forces had already attempted it two or three times before. Now, all that they had accomplished in two days was slowly crumbling and they'd have to start again from the ground up with even less troops than before. Even for Amadeus himself, he was slowly losing faith.

_Nothing you can do about it but learn what you can and move on_, Amadeus told himself, something that he had learnt on his first days as a commanding officer. Mistakes happened, and they couldn't mope about it, but had to keep going forward. Just keep heading forward.

"Just keep heading forward, alright?" Amadeus repeated to his soldiers, his tone somewhat softer this time. All his subordinates perked their heads up, even Wash, who generally knew more or less all the colonel's quirks, "We may have lost the battle – but not the war." Amadeus then took a breath before ending the meeting, "Dismissed."

As chairs began to be pushed out and one by one the lieutenant colonels exited the room until only Gunnery Officer Giuseppe was left, Amadeus called out to her, "Giuseppe, a word." The officer was visibly jarred by his sudden command, but she quickly came to his side. Amadeus waited patiently until everyone else had left (even managing to overhear Mohinder whisper, "Maybe the old man _has _gone soft" in the process) before shutting the door.

"Officer," Amadeus began as he turned back to Giuseppe, who stood perfectly still, "How are we doing on the Kreep situation? The large assault may have significantly lowered his casualties, obviously we're making it harder for him – but he's still racking up a high kill count. And the strangest thing is that in his kills…the pilots? They're missing from their cockpits. All except for the few odd ones who died gruesome deaths."

"Well, sir," Giuseppe said as opened the folder that she gripped tightly in her hands, producing a piece of paper and passing it to the colonel, "In short, not well. We still haven't been able to tag him, and he iced at least fifty plus of my Sisters. The least we got is that Kreep's decoys seemed to have doubled in the past few days. Particularly remarkable eyewitness account according to this after-action report by a…Sergeant Scylla."

"Used a red-painted Gator as a decoy? If this Kreep _is _a Zoid, it must be a damned good one for the Empire to even use _decoys _to support it," Amadeus read from the report as he put on his glasses, "This Kreep seems to be a painfully ingenious fellow. There's fear in our people, officer, and if we don't deal with it soon it'll eat us from the inside-out. As far as I know only the people in this room and your battalion are aware of this 'Kreep,' but word will spread out soon if we don't contain it now. Suspicions are already forming after today's battle, the larger battle did cover the casualties of this Kreep and significantly lower them, but people _will _notice eventually. How do we explain a third of your battalion vanishing for shooting at 'red blurs?'"

"We're at a larger disadvantage now, sir," Giuseppe said, folding her arms, "Now Kreep is aware that we have counter-sniper units, though none clearly able to counter-attack. If you read the report however, Colonel, this Scylla actually managed to escape from Kreep by utilizing her smoke dispensers appropriately, something rather impressive."

"I don't need your doggerel, officer," Amadeus said with a growl, "I need Kreep dead – and soon. Especially since he now knows we have snipers too, the advantage of surprise is lost." The sudden change in his attitude clearly shook Claudia a little.

"I know that, sir, but right now-"

"Right now, is the _perfect _time to kill Kreep!" Amadeus said with a roar, "Listen to me, Giuseppe, if you don't eliminate Kreep either in tomorrow's noonday or the night assault we might not get another chance! That bastard is costing me – _us_ many valuable soldiers and tagging him is supposed to be _your _department. The rest of us can't mount an assault if you don't solve this problem now! As far as I see it, your battle-plan was a failure because not only you failed to shoot this bastard in between the eyes, Kreep also managed to break through the crossfire, supplementing at least a quarter of our total casualties! I want him _dead_!"

"Sir, how do I-"

"That does not matter, even if you decide to hop into a Zoid like that idiot Flengéle, I don't care how the hell you do it, just _kill this KREEP_!"

The colonel came to a pause from his furious outburst, taking in wheezes of heavy breathing. Giuseppe stood as still as an effigy, not moving a muscle and clearly terrified by her superior's lack of control. Amadeus shut his eyes tightly before opening them again and staring straight at the gunnery officer. He had no more energy left for another outrage and it surprised him how fast he was losing his grips. If he failed to hold the front, he could be looking at a demotion…after all he had done for his nation. Amadeus blocked all the negative thoughts out of his mind and channeled them into the next few, menacing words that came out through his teeth before he left the room in a huff.

"Just. Do. It."

.

**0035 hours, Sep 10****th**

**Bivouac **_**Hassin**_

Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe walked along the tarmac as she smoked from a tobacco pipe, the Zoidian equivalent of a cigarette, her field boots making wet splashes on the ground. Above her another geomagnetic storm was raining, one of the many things Claudia hated about Zi. The non-stop rain and lightning irritated Claudia, and these sorts of magnetic storms also brought another whole host of problems for the military, including disrupted communications and navigation systems as well as the occasional destroyed satellite. Aside from magnetic storms, Zi was also the victim of volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, as well as floods in four-year cycles. _Stupid planet_, Claudia cursed in her head. She'd rather have one day back on Earth than a thousand anywhere else.

Despite the constant war and turmoil present on Earth, Claudia still loved her home planet. Whilst everything on Zi seemed metallic and barbaric, back on Earth, everything was advanced and modern. Humans were light years ahead of their Zoidian cousins in nearly every angle of civilization and Claudia had found the down-grade, the change, somewhat difficult. There was the language barrier at first, though that was cleared up in the first two years as English slowly phased out Ancient Zoidian. And then there was the animosity that she had been treated by from the many Zoidians, who thought them crazy when they said they came from 'another planet.' Not to mention the insane tribal wars and resentment between certain tribes, despite their unification under the Helic Republic.

She had tried to ease herself in, tried to absorb that she was starting a whole new life and an entirely different planet by joining the military, something that she had been familiar with since the early days of the world civil war….but it didn't quite have the effect expected. The Republican military back in the day wasn't the capable force it was now, but closely resembled a bunch of volunteers from disparate tribes with itchy trigger-fingers. Humanity only slowly began to assimilate itself after all the technologies they introduced turned the tide of war – cementing their place on Zi as a worthy race of 'warriors' in Zoidian eyes. Sure, the Zoidians had come a long way – but they still had a long way to go.

Claudia mooned, _what the hell am I doing, throwing a pity party about how hard life is here. Grow up_, she berated herself. Her limbs ached from the duties of an officer in her position and as she brought the pipe up to her lips, she noticed that its bowl had gone dead with the rain. Claudia swore. She stuffed the pipe back into her pocket as she continued walking, her entire uniform soaked with water as she made her way to one of the Zoid hangars of the bivouac. There would be no one in the hangars at this time of the night, as everyone else was either asleep or already deployed to hold the front so Claudia could pick and choose whatever Zoid she wanted leisurely, though she still had to ask Chief Engineer Gnogoli Bartholomediscuus, who was in charge of Zoids inventory management, for confirmation. Her meeting with the colonel had left her somewhat bothered inside at first, before she decided to take the colonel's direct 'advice' and pilot a Zoid as well. Sure she was a, as he called it 'desk-job officer,' but she wasn't rusty with Zoid controls either. It had only been a year or so that she had taken over as the commanding officer of the battalion after the death of the previous and first CO of the 16th SSBN, Officer Nina Raskova, who had been gunned down in an operation screw-up.

A spooky stillness seemed to waft around the entire base as Claudia made her way past it, around the mess halls and canteens. Aside from the constant pitter-patter of the rain, there was almost no sign of life around the place. Most of the soldiers were already packed into their quarters, resting and preparing themselves for the next day's assault aside from a few maintenance staff finishing up their rounds. Claudia made her way around a Gustav transporting dead Zoid corpses to be salvaged towards a stream that branched directly of the Khamer itself where other staff tucked safely under makeshift umbrellas washed their garbs in the ion-rich water. She then walked across a metal bridge that led to the Zoids hangar section of the bivouac, the bridge making pinging sounds as the rain trampled it. Claudia made sure not to slip on it as she entered the hangar section and made her way into one labeled 'B-13.'

The overhanging lights of the hangar were blinding, fluorescent lamps that covered the entire ceiling, making Claudia wince as she made her way through the denizens of the hangar. Countless Zoids were in it; at least a quarter of the entire brigade's soldiers had their Zoids situated in B-13, though most of them were Snakes and Godos units with the occasional Cannon Tortoise. Claudia felt somewhat small and irrelevant as she walked past them, watching the mechanical behemoths in their sleep. To her human mind, Zoids truly were amazing creatures, the perfect machines of war. Peevishly, she circled around a cyclopean Bigasaur unit before she entered the section allocated to the 16th SSBN, where all the Guysack units were.

"Which one, which one," Claudia hummed to herself as she rounded around the Guysacks to the reserve sector, where the Guysack units were new and generally untarnished. Feeling much like an inspector, she eyed each one of them carefully, wondering if they were staring back at her as well before pausing in front of one of them. This particular Guysack looked as though it was ready to mobilize, with fuel tanks and canvas sheets all strapped and ready to go. Claudia made a puzzled frown, _Why'd the CEBN strap this one up, isn't this the reserve sector?_

Just as Claudia was about to verify that she _was_ in the reserve sector, she heard a rolling sound that seemed as though it was coming from underneath the scorpion-type Zoid. Claudia jumped when she heard it. _Is someone under the Zoid? _Claudia dropped down to her knees as she stealthily drew her sidearm. Even in the darkness of the Guysack's underbelly, she could still make out the figure of a woman lying with her back on a creeper, apparently fiddling with the Guysack's belly.

"Hello," Claudia called out, feeling somewhat uncomfortable that she was the only audible voice in the large, echoing hangar, "Who's that there?" The figure didn't respond at all. Claudia slowly thumbed the safety catch on her sidearm. She propped back up and ran to the side of the Zoid before bending down right next to the woman, sidearm in place.

"Identify yourself!"

"Shit!" the woman yelled as she saw Claudia. Claudia could make out her eyes widening as the woman jerked upwards in surprise and hit her head on the underbelly of the Zoid with a clamber, "Moons – my head," the lady swore as she dropped the tools she was working on and rolled out from under the Zoid with the creeper.

"Who the-" the woman began before pausing in shock, and then recuperating herself quickly for a response, "Officer Giuseppe! Oh. Um, apologies, ma'am, you frightened me. I didn't hear you," she said, pointing at the bandages around her ear.

Claudia was taken aback as the lady spoke; she had missing teeth in many places. There were visible bandages and stitches all across her body as she was only wearing a singlet with engineer pants and on her leg was a visible cast. One of her eyelids was bruised and she had bandages and swabs of cotton on her left ear. Sweat laced her entire being and Claudia could tell from her posture that she was physically weakened. It was not until Claudia spotted the 16th SSBN patch on the jacket she wore around her waist that she realized who the woman was.

"Are you…the uh, Sergeant Scylla?" Claudia asked, drawing the conclusion that someone who survived a bombing wouldn't look particularly stunning.

"Yes ma'am," Sergeant Scylla answered, appearing somewhat confused that Claudia knew her name.

"Wow, you looked pretty banged up, soldier." Claudia went on, doing a run-over on Scylla, "You been to the infirmary? Seen Doc Fitz yet?"

"Yes ma'am, I visited the med bay, got this cast too," the sergeant said, using her finger to indicate the silver cast that was wrapped around her leg just below the knee, "Doc says I'm good for now, long as my knee still works I can pilot a Zoid and walk – 'cept with a limp. Had to get some glass pieces out of myself too, ma'am. An hour in surgery."

"Glass? Oh yes, I read your AAR, you're a pretty lucky person too," Claudia said, suddenly recalling it. She walked around the Guysack unit, gazing at Scylla's handiwork before asking another question, "What are you doing up so late, Sergeant? Shouldn't you be resting for tomorrow?"

"Well, ma'am, if you _did _read my AAR, you uh, you uh should know that my spotter is MIA. Sergeant Joanna Don?"

Claudia thought she heard the sergeant's voice choke as she said her spotter's name, "Yes, Sergeant Don? My….sentiments go out to you, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Officer," Scylla said hurriedly before resuming, "Well, uh I just thought since I don't have a spotter…currently, I might as well get used to commanding a standard Guysack unit, with the AZ 30mm and all, cockpit's a little more fancy too. None of the ED guys wanted to do anything about it when I came, you know, late when I was rescued and all…so, yeah, I'm doing this for myself tomorrow and since no one seems to have seen my Guysack…well, I helped myself to this one. They um, they did help me install the 30mm beam gun though, for this reserve unit."

Claudia glanced upwards, her head barely reaching the height of the Guysack's leg. The 30mm gun was installed, but somehow visually speaking it didn't have send off the kind of powerful vibe that the 70mm sniper rifle had. The reserve model appeared to be new and well-kept though; its grey paint still glossy and all its pieces were intact. The scorpion Zoid looked formidable, with its large pincers and elongated tail. The Guysack was one of the oldest Zoids still in service, known for its simple design and mechanical reliability. It was the direct descendant of the Gargantulus, both of their wild Zoids were even related (the spider and the scorpion) and its small size and the adaptable chassis made it the ideal sniper Zoid. Claudia scrutinized the Zoid from head to toe for a second before an idea sprang into her mind and she told Scylla, "Have the ED people switch the sniper one back on."

"Ma'am?" Scylla asked, perturbed.

"Colonel wants Kreep killed, soldier," Claudia explained, "And there's a human saying that goes, you want something done right…you do it yourself."

"Uh, well, ma'am I'll inform them tomorrow." It took her another split second before she caught on to what Claudia's intent was, "Oh! Oh. I – yeah. Yeah, I got it," Scylla stammered nervously, "Uh ma'am, just to clarify…would you like to be the spotter? Or-"

"I think I'll be fine as the spotter, thank you," Claudia answered, "I want to see what you can do anyways." Claudia offered a smile and Scylla grinned back. She then bent down to peer under the Zoid and asked Scylla, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to start up the engine's sub-generator, but I can't figure out what's wrong with it," Scylla clarified, displaying her grimy hands as proof, "I've tried cleaning up the internal workings but it still doesn't seem to work. Zoid's core's still beating, so no problem there."

"Let me see if there's anything I can do," Claudia proposed, stripping her jacket as she stepped over to the creeper. Scylla handed her a flashlight which Claudia accepted and held in between her teeth to see under the Zoid as she slipped beneath the Guysack's massive armature.

The smell of petroleum was strong and powerful and Claudia found herself cringing as she slipped inside, unprepared for the powerful stench. _Moons, it's been awhile since I've done this, maybe I'm rustier than I thought. _Claudia stretched out a hand and cried out, "Scylla, can you hand me a screwdriver, please?"

The sergeant complied, slipping in one and Claudia caught it just as it passed her. Tilting her head back on the creeper so she could see the generator, Claudia grimaced as she saw the sludge caught between the filters. Her hand scampered once more for something and when Scylla asked her what she wanted she had to mutter out 'towel' from between her teeth. _Apparently she didn't bother cleaning the outer workings_, Claudia noted as Scylla passed the towel to her. In a few seconds, Claudia had successfully wiped off all the black muck off the generator's vents. She skidded out of the Guysack.

"Try it now," she said as she removed the flashlight from her lips. Scylla ran over and pulled herself into the Guysack's cockpit before beginning the start-up procedure. Claudia heaved herself to a seating position as she waited for the generator to begin turning. The engine slowly hummed but the generator stubbornly refused to spin, making Claudia exhale in irritation.

"No go," Claudia said as she took in a deep breath and went under the Guysack once more. Using the screwdriver this time, she slowly plied the vent off the generator, carefully gripping the blackened piece of metal from its place and tossing it to her side. Inside, she flashed the light so she could make out the internal machinery before spitting the flashlight out and calling out to the Scylla for the final ingredient. If this didn't work, Claudia didn't know what would.

"Can you get my jacket? I've got a lighter in there. Front pocket," Claudia ordered. From her position she could make out the feet of Sergeant Scylla as she picked up Claudia's jacket a little too hard, making its contents spill out.

"Crap, oh crap," Claudia heard the sergeant say as she bent down and began stuffing the contents back into the jacket.

"We OK over there?"

"Yes ma'am, sorry, I just -" Claudia heard an audible pause before the sergeant continued, "I didn't know you were married, ma'am."

"Oh, did you find that picture – of my family, I've been looking for it for awhile now."

"What's the little child's name?"

"I-We….haven't decided one yet. I'm not sure whether to go with a human name or a Zoidian one."

Scylla curved down and tossed the lighter to Claudia, who caught it gracefully with one hand, "Shouldn't it be human, ma'am?"

"Well…true, but I just want the boy to fit in, you know?" Claudia asserted as she opened the lighter with her teeth for the saturated cloth wick of naphtha inside, "A human born on Zi…what does that make him? Human? Zoidian? Human-Zoidian?"

The sergeant's response was a light-hearted giggle, "Honestly ma'am, I don't know. If you don't mind me asking, Officer, why didn't you quit the military after you bore a child? Wouldn't it be better if you could raise him?"

With her fingers, Claudia twisted the flammable liquid out of the wick and into the engine as she tried to conceive a reasonable response, "Well…he is with an old couple, close friends of mine…helped us settle down when we arrived here on Zi," Claudia began as she finished emptying the wick's contents and slowly fitted the sub-generator's cover back on, "The army's my life…really, if I wasn't in it, I'd have nowhere else to go."

"What about your family?" Scylla asked as Claudia wheeled out, her face decorated with a few flaccid globules of the gasoline.

"Well, look at it this way, Sergeant. In a way I'm fighting for my family's future, eh? Go start up the Zoid again, please."

Scylla looked thoughtful for awhile before rising to her feet and back towards the Zoid cockpit. Claudia pushed aside the sweat on her forehead before her eyes set down on the picture of her family, held inside a red leather frame. It was an old shot; it had a near sepia tone to it and was taken with one of the few remaining cameras left from Earth. She was nineteen back then, already in the Republican Army and she had rushed a marriage with the man in the photo after she conceived his child. Her husband was Army as well, but he'd gone MIA two years ago in an operation and never came back, leaving Claudia to support the family and place her son under the care of the trusted couple back in Helic City. Claudia carefully placed the photograph back into her jacket just as Scylla called out triumphantly,

"It works, ma'am!"

"Yeah, I knew it would work – an old trick I learnt from my granddad."

Claudia got to her feet and walked over to the cockpit, lifting herself before perching herself at Scylla's side. Claudia watched as the young sergeant calibrated the Guysack's systems, her fingers tapping wildly at the keyboard. _Her performance from the AAR was impressive – points for proper usage of Zoid and knowing when to bug out. Survival instincts as well – utilizing piracy tunnels as bomb tunnels. She'll be a competent Sister – well, good enough at least. I'd considered utilizing a standard Guysack as well but now it seems I don't have to._ Claudia snapped out of her dissection of Sergeant Scylla when the sergeant paused her typing for a moment.

"Ma'am. The post-battle patrols? Was there anything – on my spotter? Sergeant Don?" Scylla asked, hope gleaming in her eyes.

For a moment Claudia felt almost sorry for the sergeant, she of all people knew what it was like to lose someone you really cared about. But she'd also learned that you had to be grounded in reality, emotions did little to help. It was when Claudia realized this that she stopped mulling over her husband and picked herself back up. In earnest, she _did _struggle without her husband, even resorting to the Moons (though she'd never admit it) before realizing what her husband _would_ have wanted her to do. To take care of their child. There was no point in sugar-coating things; people needed realistic goals to keep their senses straight, and Scylla had to learn it eventually. Claudia kept all this in mind as she answered,

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, but I don't recall seeing a 'Don,' anywhere."

Claudia flinched slightly as she saw the hope vanish from Scylla like air whooshing out of a burst balloon. Scylla nodded and whispered thanks before returning to the Zoid's keypad, feverishly rattling the keys as she typed on them. Claudia looked on with reserved pity and wondered if perhaps offering some sort of encouragement would help. Psychologically, at least. _What do I say, chin up? Maybe we'll find her – don't give up hope? _Claudia wondered as she went through all the corny, sentimental lines she could think of before finally deciding to drop the subject matter.

"Well, why don't we get started on replacing the rifle? You know how Chief Barth's like, those dumb ED guys' probably won't have time anyways," Claudia interjected, trying to smoothen out the bump. Scylla wordlessly nodded and the two of them went back to their duties, each one of them dropping the conversational ball, neither one of them wanting to pick it up again.


	4. Chapter Four

**Excerpt from "**_**Sister In Arms: The Story Of The First Zoid Sniper Unit**_**"**

**Chapter II: The Early Days**

**Cheval, S. and Fel, Z.**

_The 16__th__ Sisters Sniper Battalion, commonly referred to as the 16__th__ SSBN or the 'Sisters,' was the first Zoid unit specifically designed for sniper combat. The inclusion of the role of a sniper in modern Zoic Android warfare had already been fairly established during the battalion's formation, and marksmanship schools across the Helic Republic had already been set up, training promising individuals to serve as snipers out in the field, preparing them to support other elements. But it was only when the 16__th__ SSBN was formed in the 29__th__ of December, ZAC 2029 that there was alas a military battalion whose numbers were solely made up of marksmen – or rather in the 16__th__ SSBN's case, markswomen, rather than just individual lone wolf units who operated within larger elements._

_A commandant of one of the marksmanship schools and the recipient of a third-grade Sniper's Badge, Nina Raskova was a human sniper who excelled at her art and for that was placed as the first commanding officer of the 16__th__ SSBN. The battalion's traditional tendency to only accept female soldiers stems from Raskova's own inherent human sexism that soldiers of the opposite gender did not require the skill nor patience for the tedious and careful action required of snipers, despite the Zoidian view that people, regardless of gender, are all considered equal. The commandant was so adamant about this, even threatening to quit the position that High Command finally instituted that only women could join the 16__th__ SSBN. This led to much scorn amongst other high-ranking officers of the Republican Army, which made the creation and acceptance of a sniper battalion that much harder to accomplish._

_The 16__th__ SSBN was eventually formed however, and was deployed to the front-lines on ZAC 2030, having only had minor skirmishes prior to this point. They were then assigned to the 12__th__ ZBG in the Red River, before it became apparent that the village-style location of the Red was not suited to sniper warfare and they were thus pulled back and integrated into the 5__th__ ZBG which was situated at the Khamer River, an urban location and ideal 'sniper country.' The battalion was kept in reserve for most of the year and the third quarter of ZAC 2032, during which Claudia Giuseppe, one of the original members of the battalion, was assigned as the commanding officer of the battalion after Raskova's death in an operation. Their post at the Khamer continued until the arms race reached a whole new league and the 12__th__ ZBG and other Red River forces were driven back to retreat in ZAC 2033. As the Zenebas Empire pushed deeper past the Red, and into the Khamer, the 16__th__ SSBN, along with all the other 5__th__ ZBG battalions were mobilized. It was here, in the towns of the Khamer River, that the 16__th__ SSBN encountered one of their first trials, a Zenebas sniper by the name of 'Kreep.'_

_.  
_

**0347 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

"Alright, now turn around the corner….just around the left…" a voice commanded.

Joanna did as she was told; angling the Gator she was in to make a left turn around the alleyway. As much as she resented the soft, young voice sibilating from the earphones, she had to comply with his every demand. The remote charges wired around her legs inside the cockpit would enforce that. If she did rebel, if she ever went against even one command from that voice, the charges would be detonated from a remote location inside a modified ECW Red Horn, releasing a mysterious lethal gas which would suffocate her from within the Zoid itself, making Joanna suffer a long and painful asphyxiation before her brain collapsed. She couldn't bail out of the Zoid, as the safety harness strapped onto her was under lock and key, as was the cockpit itself. Joanna didn't want to die that way; if anything she'd rather get gunned down by Republican bullets than Imperial chemicals.

Joanna had been captured by Zenebas soldiers and was now, more or less a prisoner of war. She had ventured up nine flights of stairs to the roof of the apartment where Permagunde's and Kempfer's Guysack had been shot by Kreep, only to discover that the vernal lieutenant had survived whilst her Sister, Kempfer, had been burned to death from inside her cockpit. She and Permagunde had barely escaped the onslaught of the Storch tactical bombers, having had to zip-line from the apartment roof to the rooftops of another building using a clothesline, narrowly escaping with their lives. They had hidden in a bath-tub situated within the next building, intensely whispering prayers to the Moons for protection before making a fatal mistake, falling asleep from weariness and only to awaken moments later by Zenebas infantry looters who eventually captured them as POWs.

After that, one thing had led to another as Joanna and Permagunde were brutally interrogated. It didn't take much for the interrogators to figure out they were sniper unit pilots, something which no doubt made their 'interrogation' that much brutal. Joanna had gone into the room determined not to break but within the first few minutes, she'd snapped. The interrogators asked her all kinds of questions; some probably just excuses to beat Permagunde and her. They spilled every piece of intel, and Joanna felt nothing but shame for that. She had failed her duty. The torture used on them had been excruciatingly painful, from strangulating them with buckets of water to cauterizing newly-cut wounds with searing pieces of hot charcoal. But their suffering didn't end there – all the POWs capable of piloting Zoids were forced to pilot red-painted Imperial Zoids, to serve as decoys for Kreep – the sniper. All of a sudden the disappearance of the pilots of the Republican Zoids that were shot by Kreep made clear sense. They were being used to pilot Kreep's decoys. Joanna had to admit, it was a deviously wicked strategy and the voice on the line seemed to know it.

"Turn slowly….cautiously," the voice went on.

Joanna already knew what would be on the other side. There would be a Republican Zoid posted there, and its attention would turn towards Joanna, giving that space of time in between for Kreep to take the shot and take down the unit unnoticed. She didn't want that to happen – didn't want to be part of the murder of another Republican soldier. But she had no choice, and at any rate at least she could bring herself down with it to. If she killed herself now – she'd never have any more Helic blood on her hands ever again. _Ok, my comrade, _Joanna said, hoping that the Republican Zoid would do what she wanted him to do, _I'm going to give you this chance now – don't let me down._

With that she brought the Gator out of the junction and turned into the street. Then, Joanna purposely made a fault in her movement, not pressing the brakes, which caused the Gator to topple with its momentum as it crash-landed out on the open road, billowing out clouds of smoke. Fragments of rock surged upwards as the bright red unit tripped with a clatter, perfectly open for an easy shot. The Snakes unit at the other side of the wall immediately caught wind of the sound and sprang upwards in a curled stance like a cobra, the wheel under its jaw spinning vigorously as it poised its guns for combat. Joanna braced her body, pressing her knees up to her chest and pulling her arms around them to soften the impact.

_This way I don't have to shoot him, this way I have an excuse_. Her entire cockpit shook as the lizard-like Zoid slipped along the gravel before coming to a stop. Joanna's safety harness was stretched to its limit at the force of the fall and through the red slit of the cockpit she could make out the Snakes unit auto-pumping the slides of the 40mm shotguns on both sides of its jaws. _Come on – shoot– shoot ME!_

_CRACK!_ The familiar sound of a sniper rifle rang in the air. What was once a habitual and comforting melody had sunk to a demoralizing and harsh reminder of the menace that had plagued the Republican forces since day one of Operation Season. Joanna turned away as the Snakes' canopy burst open into orange dregs and the sniper round hit home. _Damn it. _Joanna felt like wrangling the neck of the man who had pulled the trigger. But for now, there was nothing she could do about it. The sound of metal breaking apart was audible as the Snakes unit fell with the hit, bouncing off once or twice the ground before coming to a stop.

"What was that?"

Joanna didn't reply to the man, but held on tightly on the joysticks. Unconsciously, she began releasing and gripping the joysticks in a reciprocating fashion, and as she looked down at her own hands performing the involuntary tick, she immediately recalled a friend of hers who used to have that tendency as well. _Ibrik….if you're out there…_

"Get moving, back to base. You've done enough for now, Republican. Try escaping…well, you should know what'll happen next." The man said bluntly before disconnecting from the channel and dead silence filled Joanna's ears.

She let go of the joysticks and buried her face in her thighs. Pain crept from every segment of her body, from the scars, from her aching legs – she had not had any rest for some time now. Parts of her wanted to drop it all, to say _screw it _and just fall asleep, not caring for the consequences. But another part of her, the loyal patriotic soldier inside her kept her awake, kept her alert. _What do I do now? _For some reason, Joanna found her eyes drifting towards her side, and through the slit in the Gator's cockpit she saw the three Moons rotating around Zi up in the sky. Always there, never changing no matter where you were. _Still – we will watch over you_… a day at the synagogue as a child suddenly came back to Joanna as she remembered one of the lines from the Sacred Scrolls. The line kept reiterating itself in her head until it slowly became a mantra and in the silence, Joanna clasped her hands together and prayed.

Joanna prayed for herself. She prayed that the Moons would help her, would help her stay strong. Then she prayed for her friends. For Ibrik, for Permagunde. She prayed they'd make it home in one piece, that they'd shoot Kreep to hell and come out without a scratch. She prayed for her parents – that the Moons would grant them the strength to bear her inevitable death. Finally, she prayed for a plan – and that the Moons would guide her, and tell her what the right thing to do was.

"So be it," Joanna said, signifying the end of the prayer. Joanna didn't move a muscle for a moment, expecting some astounding miracle to occur but none came. All she felt was a remarkably still feeling of serenity. _The kind of peace a dead person has_. _I'm going to die anyways._ Joanna glanced around her; the charges were wired all across her legs, each one holding a large enough dosage to take down a large wild Zoid. Joanna knew how this was going to end, how she was going to die and unless the Moons forbade it, she was _not _going to die in vain. If she had any regrets now, it was that she couldn't say goodbye to Ibrik, but perhaps it was better that way.

_Goodbye anyways_, Joanna said in her mind, _I hope you can hear me, Ibrik…wherever you are._

_.  
_

**1355 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, No Man's Land**

**Betwixt Republican and Imperial frontlines**

Ibrik winced as the sun stood perfect still in the sky, beaming its sweltering ultraviolet rays down on her. The translucent orange canopy that shielded her only made it worse, the light bouncing off its glass, forming a blinding glare. Ibrik winced at the glare, turning her attention down to the instrument panel of the Guysack's tail cockpit. Her black hair felt warm in the sunlight and sweat oozed from every pore in her body. Irritation gripped Ibrik but she stifled a yawn, fearing that her spotter and superior, Gunnery Officer Claudia Giuseppe, might overhear her. Ibrik had not grabbed much sleep last night, waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares before making her way to the hangar to work on the Guysack unit to take her mind off her dreams. She had met the officer there, who strangely enough, wanted to be Ibrik's spotter, and for that Ibrik was grateful. She'd rather go up against the enemy with a Sister than without one. Still though, Ibrik couldn't help but remind herself every time she went on the line that it was Officer Giuseppe at the other end, not Joanna.

Ibrik knew that the chance that Joanna was still alive was slim and likely non-existent, yet she ignored the voice that told her that. Ibrik had not given up hope on her Sister yet. Ibrik herself had never been that dedicated soldier that Joanna always was. Joanna always kept Ibrik in line; she was the strict one of the two of them and the only one actually proud to be a Republican. Ibrik herself could not care less about loyalties and had only joined the Helic Army because a) her home village was Republic territory and b) she didn't want a boring career. The second point would technically have averted her from marksmanship school but she didn't have a choice when her previous battalion's CO noticed her talent for accurate fire. It was there that she met Joanna and where they had been paired together. The pairings of the 16th SSBN were strong bonds between women of war, with the battalion's members even referring to each other as 'Sisters' as a sign of that friendship and Ibrik and Joanna had been no exception. But now that her Sister was gone, Ibrik felt a hole inside her and in some ways, the sudden 'death' of Joanna snapped Ibrik back to her senses about how serious war was and how vulnerable she was on the battlefield.

Ibrik's nightmare the night before had shown her this as well. In her dreams, she saw herself being the one volunteering to run towards Permagunde and Kempfer, the one taking the lead. Joanna was always the one with the plan but in Ibrik's twisted fantasy, she was the one who ran towards the apartment, only to find Permagunde and Kempfer both dead, their bloody and mangled bodies visible in gory detail. Her last memories of the dream before she woke up were of loud, thunderous explosions and the fading image of Joanna escaping with the Guysack, escaping with her life. Just like what Ibrik herself did. The only emotion stronger than the grief Ibrik felt was the guilt at her actions. In her mind, it was how Ibrik conjured Joanna's feelings. She knew that was what Joanna would have wanted her to do, the logical course of action, but she still couldn't help wondering if there could have been another way.

"You see anything from up there?" Officer Giuseppe's voice suddenly buzzed through the communicator, tearing Ibrik away from her thoughts. The officer's voice sounded strange to Ibrik's still healing ear.

"No, ma'am," Ibrik responded from her position up on the fifth floor. The spot chosen to snipe from was inside a waterworks factory, and since the entire Guysack unit couldn't fit on the walkway, Ibrik and the Zoid's tail had been positioned on the floor above, peeking out of a hole in the ceiling and directly facing a broken vent in what had been a ventilation shaft. The vent's glossy paint would ensure that the glare off Ibrik's canopy wouldn't reveal their position. Down below, Officer Giuseppe's visuals were somewhat hampered by the brick wall that they took cover behind, but she was still able to make out more or less the surroundings through the cracks in the foundation. Ibrik, on the other hand, had a decent view and the Guysack tail's rifle barrel was placed through the slits of the large vent. The factory was largely demolished now though, and Officer Giuseppe had personally selected the spot due to its long-winded tunnels and degenerate structure. In fact, it had been the officer herself who had chosen to participate in the morning hold-the-front attack, despite the fact that none of the other 16th SSBN units would be mobilized until the night came. Officer Giuseppe seemed to hold a personal grudge against Kreep.

Ibrik wondered if the officer had selected Amal to patrol rather than Yeil in hopes of keeping Ibrik focused as well. Ibrik conceded that it was a wise decision, her focus would have admittedly been averted, and that was never good for any soldier, let alone a sniper. The specialist course had commandants ragging her continuously to keep her eyes open for extended periods and function at optimal levels of physical fitness, things that had miraculously kept her alive from both the bomb explosion and the lacerations of the aftermath. Still, Ibrik did feel somewhat sleep-deprived as she shielded her battered left eye from the light with her hand, but at least managed to stay alert, far better than any ordinary Zoidian would have been able to under similar circumstances.

As she covered her eyes from the sunlight, Ibrik observed the town of Amal through the slits in the vent. Amal had had it worse than Yeil. Though both Yeil and Amal had been the victim of Storch bombings, Amal had the stronger Zenebas force, with most of the invading troops concentrated in the town. Smoke and ash rose from every corner of the dying shell that was once the town of Amal and charred metal and blood decorated the streets. Gunfire seemed to erupt from every corner in the distance, and Ibrik could even make out the meter-high eruptions from Zenebas mortars. A odorous haze had settled in from all the dead bodies and despite the mass evacuations over the Khamer River of the town's population, hundreds more had been too late and did not survive the vicious blitzkrieg of the Imperial Army.

But Ibrik and Officer Giuseppe were safe in the waterworks factory, however. The only sounds emanating from the abandoned place were those of dripping water from loose taps and the scampering of speckled rabbits across the network of canals and pipes spread all around the building. They had been patiently waiting in the same location for nearly an hour now, disembarked from the rest of the core forces and under Officer Giuseppe's authorization, as a single 'lone wolf' unit to track down Kreep. Reports had come an hour ago that sniper activity seemed to be strong in the location and so they had settled down from their vantage point where they could see the battle unfolding beneath them from a safe distance. But for the past hour Ibrik had not even fired one shot from her rifle's en-bloc clip, and all sixteen rounds still remained. Ibrik scratched her right leg, still held firmly in a cast as she watched the hours go by on the on-screen clock.

"Ma'am, perhaps we should relocate?" Ibrik finally picked up the courage to ask. The words sounded mispronounced as they left from the gaps in her teeth. Ibrik couldn't even stand to look at the mirror because of them, though right now permanent gaps were the least of her worries.

"No, not yet. He's here, I can sense it," Officer Giuseppe answered in a matter-of-fact manner, "I know Kreep is here."

"Ma'am, there've been reports about sudden fire all across Amal, some even in Yeil. The only things I see from up here are explosions from those damned Malders and their mortars and hit-and-run combat between our forces and the Empire's. Far as I can see, ma'am, there's no sniper present." Ibrik noted, scanning her finger through the combat reports that they had gotten. _Two sentries shot, one lieutenant of the 17__th__ ZABN, and five more grunts killed in the industrial sector we're in right now_, Ibrik read in her head.

"Half those sightings probably aren't true. False intel leaked by the Empire, multiple decoys to generate the atmosphere of fear. They're boosting the credibility of the bastard." Ibrik heard a snort before the officer went on, "Can't see shit from here."

"It's all wide and clear up here, ma'am," Ibrik answered, and then she accidentally yawned.

"You sleepy, Sergeant?"

"Not – well, yeah sorta ma'am," Ibrik confessed, "Shouldn't have stayed up last night, but it was worth it – getting this Zoid ready."

"You want to switch spots, Sergeant?" Officer Giuseppe offered, "I'll take watch for no-"

"No ma'am it's fine, really." Ibrik didn't want to risk it; she knew what happened the last time she tried switching seats. She didn't like to think about it either.

"If you're sure. But remember, a distracted soldier is a dead soldier."

"Wilco, ma'am," Ibrik affirmed as she rubbed her eyes. _Stupid sun, Moons I wish I could throw open this cockpit_.

Her hands weren't helping to obstruct the suffocating glare and so Ibrik resorted to pulling down the field glasses off the ceiling slot and pressing her eyes on them, squeezing herself on the surface of the glasses so tightly that no external light crept in. Ibrik blinked her eyes multiple times as she struggled to fight off the drowsiness of her torpid stupor. Her eyelids suddenly felt as though they weighed tons and a heavy cloud seemed to cover her consciousness as Ibrik slowly drooped from the field glasses, her body leaning to the right before a voice barked through the line and jolted Ibrik awake.

"Sergeant! Sector Keiki, deep!" Officer Giuseppe yelled, "Bearing 320, medium range! You see it?"

Ibrik used her fingers to smear off the blur from her eyes as she struggled to stop seeing double images. As her vision set in to its normal standards, she peered into her field glasses and adjusted them to the bearing. It took a moment for her to make out what her CO was trying to point out, but when she eventually did, Ibrik let out a gasp. Just ahead of them, on top of a collective of oil tanks crouched a Zoid hidden under a grey ghillie cloak, concealed to the untrained eye. Ibrik saw the extended sniper rifle mounted on its back and its metallic clamshell cockpit peeking out of the canvas before slipping back in, the barrel of its rifle still sticking out inconspicuously. From their point of view, it was nearly completely camouflaged; the shamble of pipes and wires of the industrial sector only improving the Zoid's concealment. Ibrik fumbled for a moment before she found the switch by the side of the glasses and twisted them, switching from scan view to scope view. Immediately the rangefinders were replaced with a reticule, chevrons, and stadia markings as Ibrik zeroed in the scope.

"It's red," was Ibrik's first comment as she brought the reticule over where she predicted the Zoid would be, steadily toggling the hat switch which controlled the Guysack's 'stinger' with her thumb. She judged the distance would be 150 yards, give or take.

"Can't quite see it from here," Officer Giuseppe said, "It's a Zoid under that canvas. Could be Kreep."

"Potential decoy, ma'am?"

"Decoys don't move, Scylla," Officer Giuseppe answered, audibly flustered, "Zoids need pilots to move and unless the Zenebas have discovered some way to remotely control Zoids then that's Kreep. Bastard probably doesn't suspect someone would be so high up where we are." Ibrik did notice that the Zoid did move, but somehow the situation did not feel right. A sense of déjà vu was lingering.

_We are high_, Ibrik noted mentally as she spoke, "Not sure if I can make the shot to be honest, ma'am. There are all those wires, wind picks up and swings them, might affect trajectory. Maybe we should call in one of the squads from the ZABNs, have them pull a CWAD; fire and maneuver or something?"

"No, can't risk it," the officer answered, "Kreep's smart, too elusive. They come in; he'll get spooked and bug out." Ibrik found herself slightly wary at Officer Giuseppe's assurance that the Zoid _was _Kreep, "But if you can't take the shot then I will. Might not get another chance like this."

"Never mind then ma'am," Ibrik added hurriedly, "Might be long gone if we switch. I can take the shot."

"One shot, one kill, Scylla," Officer Giuseppe admonished, "You can't take it then don't."

"I can, ma'am," Ibrik said with finality as she flicked a switch, cocking the bolt of the mounted rifle as it loaded in a fresh round. Her heart was racing and deep in her mind, Ibrik wasn't so sure she could shoot the Zoid. The screen flashed 'CLEAR' as Ibrik drew her eyes to the field glasses' screen, "Call for fire."

Ibrik thought she heard a momentary delay of uncertainty from the gunnery officer before she finally answered, "170 yards, stationary."

_Small MOA, then_, Ibrik reminded herself as she adjusted the tail of the Guysack. Her prediction had been off by a bit, but even the most miniscule of miscalculations could severely affect the shot. Ibrik double-checked the on-screen wind vane and anemometer just to confirm that there would be no wind hampering the trajectory of the bullet. It registered at 0 m/s, and Ibrik smiled in relief.

"Roger that," she answered.

"Hold scope…fire when ready."

Ibrik took in a deep breath and released it as she unclenched her hand and circled it around the control joystick again. Her glovette stretched its fabric as she placed her index finger gently over the trigger, her other fingers gripping onto the rest of the joystick for support. Through the x4 magnification, she could make out the grayish load that might or might not be Kreep, Ibrik couldn't be sure. _Guess we'll find out in a couple of seconds. _Ibrik took in another breath and let it out. She could hear Gunnery Officer Giuseppe release one too, over the line. A tense atmosphere drifted in and Ibrik knew the officer's hopes were resting on her. Ibrik swore she wouldn't let her down – not Claudia Giuseppe, but her previous Sister. _Here goes nothing. Joanna – this is for you_.

"Mark."

A shot rang in the air. Ibrik's rear left the seat, startled at the sudden sound before a second one accompanied it. Then, several more rounds trailed the first one before topping it off with the automatic dispersing of a Maxer 30mm machine-gun. Almost immediately the 'Kreep' dropped, its grey canvas flapping aside as it collapsed, falling off the oil tank and down on the ground below. The bullet-riddled Zoid fell flat on the ground, its armor smashing with the impact and Ibrik recognized it as a Gator, an Imperial Dimetrodon-type Zoid. This particular one was heavily modified however, painted red with a high-caliber rifle replacing the gatling gun that generally filled the hard point on its spine. Ibrik could see how Kreep could pilot a sniper Gator, though she still wasn't certain whether or not it was him.

"What the hell…Ibrik, we _did _replace the tail with a sniper rifle, right?" Claudia asked quietly, "Not a machine-gun?"

"Uh ma'am, I didn't fire it," Ibrik said, her hand still tightly gripping the joystick and her index finger just hovering over the trigger. The screen's still showed all 16 rounds in the clip.

"You didn't…then _who_?"

"There," Ibrik answered as she placed the field glasses aside and saw a Republican Gojulas unit come into view. Ibrik felt a calming sense of abatement as the lumbering goliath brought up its voluminous feet up and down, its locomotion creating minor tremors across the street as it walked into Ibrik's line of sight. It had only taken a few rounds from the Tyrannosaurus-type Zoid to eliminate the Gator at such close range; truly the Gojulas was the Republican symbol of power. No Zoid so far, either Republican or Imperial had even come close to matching the Gojulas' firepower and raw strength, the only two Zoids able to even confront the Gojulas and survive would be the Red Horn and Iron Kong and even then the odds rested heavily in the Gojulas' favor.

"I see it. Can you see the battalion patch on its body?" Officer Giuseppe asked over the line, "I think congratulations are in order, if I was in that huge-ass Zoid, I would've missed Kreep myself."

"Hold on, ma'am," Ibrik said as she switched the glasses back to spotter mode. She could hardly take in that Kreep was down; it seemed almost too good to be true. But Kreep hadn't lost because of a lack of skill, or because he was too stupid. Kreep lost because the enemy had the larger barrel. Still, a nagging premonition told her that history was about to repeat itself. Ibrik ignored it.

She increased the resolution till most of the Gojulas' body took up the view screen. Scanning the Gojulas' entire fuselage from the bottom up, she made out the logo of the Republic stamped on before making her way up to the Zoid's neck and then finally the head. A green-blue patch had been painted onto the base of the Gojulas' skull, and just as Ibrik was about to increase the resolution to get a closer look at the patch, a bullet was fired. Ibrik's eyes widened in horror as a round pierced the orange canopy of the Gojulas and she watched wordlessly as the glass cracked just enough for a round to go through. Acting purely on instinct, she lowered the resolution and zoomed out to try to locate where the shot had been fired but it was already too late. _That wasn't him. That Gator – that wasn't Kreep._

"Who was that?" Officer Giuseppe asked, sounding somewhat shaken, "Don't tell me…"

Ibrik didn't answer but paned the Guysack's tail through every degree that it could possibly reach, surveying the battlefield. She could see Republican Godos units taking cover behind run-down offices and firing back at Imperial Hammer Rocks unloading their vulcans, their guns making rattling sounds as they came into contact with granite walls. Marders fired mortar rounds from concealed launchers within their carapace, trying to flush out the Helic forces. But nowhere in her view could she make out the signs of a sniper, of Kreep. There were no tell-tale symptoms, no glint of the barrel or disturbance of wildlife anywhere within Ibrik's line of sight. And because of their urban location, where buildings often relayed sounds in wrong directions, Ibrik couldn't triangulate where Kreep was either. Even if she was armed with the knowledge that a downward shot on the Gojulas could only have been made from higher than twenty-one meters, roughly the height she was situated, she still wasn't able to locate him. Ibrik felt fear's tendrils slowly creeping in as she brought her scope back to the Gojulas unit.

"The Gojulas is down, ma'am." Ibrik announced, her tongue feeling dry.

Claudia swore in fury over the line but Ibrik felt none of that emotion, only an overwhelming regret. "I can't pinpoint Kreep's location, ma'am," Ibrik said, this time assured that it was Kreep. Zenebas forces didn't have any other marksmen in the area – as far as intel knew and it made sense that the Zenebas forces would have decoys – let alone _moving _ones to protect such an important asset as Kreep. But to go so far as to paint them red and pose as snipers, it was definitely going the extra mile.

"Direct hit?"

"Direct, ma'am. The head and through the canopy. Zoid's immobilized," Ibrik confirmed sullenly. The Gojulas now stood on the street, motionless and no longer extant.

"Call it in."

"Call what-"

"The assault teams, the ZABN. Artillery would be useless at this point." Officer Giuseppe snapped, infuriation dripping off every word.

"Yes ma'am," Ibrik answered quietly. She could sympathize with her CO's vexation – they were losing at the very game that they were supposed to be professionals in.

Ibrik patched herself into the Republican network and immediately requested for additional reinforcements, "Loner-1 to Net, requesting ZABN support at our current location, coordinates on grid listed as A164. Zenebas asset 'Kreep' believed to be in the vicinity; we are unaware of its location, repeat _unaware_ and are not willing to reveal our position. We will provide covering fire for incoming troops, however. Over and out." Ibrik fiddled with her headphones as she dropped out of the network and it filled with static before switching over to the line between her and Officer Giuseppe's cockpit. The assault units would be here any minute now.

"How's your leg?" Officer Giuseppe's question caught Ibrik by surprise.

"Um, better, ma'am, thank you," Ibrik said, her voice faltering.

"Good, because I want you to be the spotter next time."

Ibrik didn't know how to answer to that. To think, that her commanding officer now thought that she was incapable as a sniper, and that she had bungled the shot. A loss of recognition from an officer was the worst thing that could happen to any soldier and Ibrik felt her heart sink as she heard those words.

"Yes ma'am," Ibrik responded in faux agreement, the guilt at the death of the Gojulas still weighing on her. It was that same elation, that one of guiltiness that kept plaguing her. If she had taken the shot just one second before, she might have been the victim instead. In that way, at least she'd be shot but Officer Giuseppe, who was one floor beneath, would've gotten away safely. Again, that same sense of déjà vu descended upon Ibrik – luck had led to her escaping with her life once more in exchange for someone else's. Luck she was not so sure she wanted.

"He's probably fallen back by now – I can see some of those Zenebas Zoids falling back too," Officer Giuseppe said with a sigh, "We can't get him now, we should probably fall back and regroup with friendlies further east."

"Yes ma'am," Ibrik answered as she readied herself to bring down the Guysack's tail. Before she did however, she took one last fleeting look at the Gojulas. The pilot was obviously dead as the Zoid had remained silent and whatever biological fragments that still remained in the Zoid were probably inert by now. Kreep's shot had been well-placed and with a single round, he had ambushed and taken down an entire Gojulas, what was supposedly the Republican's ace in the hole, the undefeatable weapon. Ibrik turned away from the Republican behemoth and glanced at the disabled Gator.

There was no doubt the Zoid and its pilot were both dead, the Gojulas' high-powered machine-guns had ensured that. Smoke still streamed from its wounds and the internal fires had begun to catch on its exterior. In a matter of minutes, the Zoid would be engulfed in its own flames before exploding in a chain reaction. By then Ibrik and Officer Giuseppe would be long gone but still - Ibrik couldn't help but wonder what kind of a soldier would volunteer for that sort of duty. Demoted officers? Dying officers? Or perhaps; simply soldiers who were a little off in the head? Ibrik couldn't know for sure.

"We ready to go now?" Officer Giuseppe questioned as Ibrik brought the tail of the Guysack down to a fetal curling position.

"Yes ma'am."

Officer Giuseppe maneuvered the Guysack out of its hiding place and into the main complex of the factory where they would be able to easily locate the exit, a small hole that had probably been made during one of the flood-cycles and had never been repaired. Ibrik bent back on her chair and folded her arms together. Her cockpit swayed up and down gently with the Guysack's motions as Ibrik bent her neck back on the head rest and shut her eyes. She needed to grab as much rest as she could before the second night-time assault but still…there were the dreams. Despite the assault budging into time that could be spent on valuable sleep, Ibrik actually appreciated the attack's timing. _At least this way I don't have to sleep. No sleep, no nightmares._ Ibrik could not wait to get into battle again – where the adrenaline would kick in and she wouldn't feel tired, however temporary the feeling was.

The sergeant knew that she was lucky to have survived another day in the war, another day out on the battlefield. Generally finishing one's patrol rotations made her glad and satisfied. But not today, today she felt empty. _Funny how so much can change in a couple of days_, Ibrik told herself as she reached into her breast pocket for her pocket watch and flicked its cover open. Joanna's father, who was a talented watchmaker, had constructed it for her using the finest ores straight from the Western Deserts of Delpoi. Behind its cover, Ibrik ran her thumb through the faded engraving, her skin slipping in through the ridges as she read it:

_For my Sister_

_One shot; one kill_

_.  
_

**1728 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, Helic Republic Territory**

"That's her."

"You sure?" Chief Medical Officer Unther Fitz asked again.

"Yes, that's her." Claudia said as she gazed down on the familiar face in the body bag.

"From…what's your battalion, ma'am?"

"16th SSBN. Sisters Sniper Battalion." Claudia answered in between coughs. She was itching to get a smoke as soon as she could.

"Thank you ma'am," Fitz said as he scribbled it down on his note pad and zipped the body bag up, "I just needed the confirmation for her medical records."

"Sure thing, Doc," Claudia replied as she beat her chest and tried to push the phlegm rising at the edge of her throat.

As the medical officer walked off to tend to other commanding officers, Claudia glanced around her at the row of body bags all lined up on the pavement. There were countless of them, at least twenty had been lost in the day alone – and many more would be lost tonight. Claudia felt nauseated at the smell of burnt, dead bodies and she turned down towards the body bag placed directly ahead of her, the one she had been asked to identify. She knew that more soldiers, both of and not of her battalion, would not make it home tonight. Claudia hoped she would not be one of those who didn't. She had a son waiting for her, and she wasn't ready to go down without a fight.

Her rotation was nearly complete. There were only several more weeks to go before Claudia would be on leave as the next batch of soldiers would be shipped to the frontlines. During her time off she had planned to take a trip east to Helic City, the capital of the Republic, and visit her son. The last time she had seen him was over three years ago and Claudia found herself wondering how her son's appearance was right now. For some reason she imagined him as the younger version of his father, with the similarly rigid jaw, the pronounced lips and the jagged nose. Claudia smiled at the thought – she could not wait to see how grown her only son was. But the certainty of it happening didn't seem to weigh in her favor, however.

Kreep was an intelligent and ruthless opponent, and up till now Claudia had still been unable to catch the rascal whilst he had wreaked havoc across the entire Republican Army in the AOO. Word was beginning to spread like wildfire now, and even some of the ZABN soldiers were already aware that the Zenebas Empire had snipers of their own. Of course, they weren't aware of the specifics, like how it was only one particularly stubborn sniper, as rumors tended to twist when they went through too many people, but they knew more than the colonel would like. Claudia knew that Colonel Amadeus wasn't pleased with it, he had even given a strict reprimand to the soldiers who did, calling it 'preposterous lies' and that it was 'affecting their heads.' But the colonel was even less pleased with Claudia's performance, and he was slowly losing patience with her. She could be looking at a demotion, and soon too.

Claudia didn't want a demotion listed on her permanent record, but to prevent one from occurring, she had to be able to kill Kreep before the night was over. The night-time infiltration would occur in a matter of hours and she and her battalion had to somehow locate Kreep and nail him before he could cause any more damage. Even if the assault did pull through and they were able to capture Kreep not in actual combat, but because his army surrenders, Claudia could still be looking at a lower pay grade in rank as the Army's brass would want a scapegoat to blame for its sympathetic telegrams of apologies to the families of the dead soldiers. A human one was even better, as Zoidians might be considered too 'skilled in combat' for such a faulty case in judgment than their 'weaker,' 'softer' human cousins. As harsh as it seemed, Claudia didn't let her emotions take her eye away from the bigger picture. Colonel Amadeus was simply worried for the sake of his men, and Claudia was, to put it in context, failing to complete her duty. She had been called in as a consultant but so far she had been unable to achieve any results.

But how could she achieve any against such a secretive character as this 'Kreep?' Aside from the known facts that Kreep was a Zoid and that it was painted red, there was little to no available information about him at all. Hell, she didn't even know if it was a he or a she. Whilst the others knew their enemy – knew their faces, Claudia barely knew hers. Kreep had continuously adapted to every single one of her strategies, playing an offensive role in the first assault as well as utilizing decoys during it and now even using _living _decoys. Claudia herself had been stunned when she learned this, that the Empire would put so much faith in one soldier by providing its own men and women like they were expendables – before she had seen the body retrieved from the Gator that had been shot down before her very eyes.

That very body was the one she stood over right now, the one that Claudia had confirmed as Private Hensel Permagunde, the Sister mentioned in Scylla's AAR, to Officer Fitz. She was now only mildly recognizable, her skin sickly pale and covered with veins that slithered around her neck. Sister to a Sergeant Tec Kempfer, the forensic specialist had discovered that some sort of exploded charge had been placed in the salvaged cockpit of the Gator that was most likely used to threaten Permagunde into piloting the Zoid. The entire Republican Army had just assumed that the decoys were stationary when because of a lack of information; they had not known that these decoys were fully operational. Claudia herself had wanted the Gator's pilot to be saved so they could interrogate him or her for intel on Kreep. The only reason why Republican intelligence never suspected that POWs were being used was because they never searched the corpses of the decoys that _were _shot down.

They had been lucky enough to clear out the flames from the Zoid before it blew up, discovering the secret behind the Zenebas' filthy new tactic, even though they had no idea what was in the charges aside from it being some sort of gas that dissimilated after several minutes. There were two other cases of living decoys used as well, though pilots were not of her battalion but they had been shot by 16th SSBN members who in turn, were KIA. How they had been persuaded into piloting these Zoids was not confirmed, but Claudia suspected it had something to do with the burst charges around the cockpit. All the decoy pilots had Zoids-piloting experience however, and Claudia felt sickened at the lack of restraint the Empire – that Kreep showed.

There would be no more second chances, not for her, not for Kreep. Tonight was the night that either she or Kreep was going to die and Claudia swore she would make sure that it wasn't going to be her – or that she'd die trying to bring Kreep along with her. Tonight she was going to be the one with her hand on the trigger, and Kreep would be the one in her crosshairs, not the other way around. Claudia solemnly swore that as she saluted the dead body of Private Permagunde before walking off to her quarters, lighting up her tobacco pipe along the way.


	5. Chapter Five

**Excerpt from human song, "**_**Just Before the Battle, Mother**_**"**

**Written and published by American songwriter George F. Root**

**Circa 1800s C.E.**

_Farewell, mother, you may never  
Press me to your heart again  
But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother  
If I'm numbered with the slain_

_Oh, I long to see you, mother  
And the loving ones at home  
But I'll never leave our banner  
Till in honor I can come  
Tell the traitors all around you  
That their cruel words we know  
In every battle kill our soldiers  
By the help they give the foe_

_.  
_

**2115 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, Helic Republic Territory**

**ETA 02:45:11**

Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus was impressed. With what little materials that were available, the CEBN and other support battalions had managed to construct a serviceable cantonment for the 5th ZBG to use as a beachhead, prepping them right before the night-time infiltration. As Amadeus paced down the streets of Amal, which had now been cleared apart for the military base, he kept a sharp eagle eye look around. Soldiers of all battalions saluted him as he walked past them, with Amadeus nodding his head occasionally as he went by. Many of them were busy focused on trying to set up the cantonment, with some attempting to start up the portable cooker with power from a salvaged Zoids' core whilst others were trying to connect the sewage lines of the town with the washroom, so waste could be disposed with no one getting their hands dirty. Some of them however, simply stood around, waiting impatiently for the next sleep cycle to end so that it would be their turn to grab some shut-eye. Amadeus didn't blame them – many of these men and women that he was so proud of had not had much rest since the first assault of the operation and if anything, they deserved it.

He had to ask directions several times to figure out the way to the Zoids hangar. The colonel had only arrived an hour ago from _Hassin_, and was still trying to familiarize himself with the locale. Eventually he found his way towards the hangar and as he entered, he found himself gazing in awe at the bustling activity from every facet of the ZBG. Colonel Amadeus watched in pride at the service that his soldiers demonstrated as he paced around the hangar. Engineers were scampering around, finding spare parts to replace lost ones (one of them even tried substituting a Barigator's head with a white-head one, making it look oddly disproportionate) whilst the ordnance corps members were busy scribbling messages like 'A gift from the Republic, bitch' on the artillery shells of Cannon Tortoise units. Amadeus smiled; it was like a blast from the past.

Amadeus had once been a dyed-in-the-wool foot soldier, a grunt back in the days of monarchies and had had trouble transitioning from being in the fight to being in the cockpit of a Zoid. Over time however, as the forty-year skirmish between the Helic Republic and the Zenebas Empire intensified, Amadeus had been forced into a Zoid and little by little, grew slowly to appreciate the use and necessity of these biomechanical machines. There had been a point in time when if someone would've told him that Zoids would replace conventional infantry, he would have laughed in their face. But times change, and everything, even war, has to evolve and adapt. Sometimes, the 'good old things' just aren't enough and pass away.

"Chief?" Amadeus asked Chief Engineer Gnogoli Bartholomediscuus, often referred to as Chief Barth and the head of the 4th Combat Engineering Battalion, as he walked towards him. The Chief was busy giving out orders regarding the repair of a Zoid.

"Sir?" Bartholomediscuus perked up, obviously surprised at his superior's presence in the hangar, "Can I help you?" he asked, before turning to a few of his men who were fixing a spare tire onto a Snakes' lower jaw, "Counter-clockwise, you dolt! Turn the wrench counter-clockwise!"

"I need a Zoid, Chief," Amadeus announced his intent. Bartholomediscuus immediately turned his attention back to him. Amadeus found himself amused at the engineer's expression.

"Did I…I just, sir?" Bartholomediscuus said disjointedly.

"I need a Zoid, Bartholomediscuus," Amadeus repeated bluntly, "And a good one too. Might be a little rusty too, so I want you to see if you can arrange a test run for me."

"Uh yes sir, well uh," Bartholomediscuus muttered, dumbfounded as he flipped through the papers on his clip-board, "There's a Hidocker that's not in use…a Guysack, wait someone already stole its safety harness so never mind that…ah, here we go! A Gojulas that's just been placed under reserve! Perfect for you, sir!"

"Gojulas?" Amadeus questioned. He knew about the Republican's pride and joy just about as well as any other Republican soldier worth his salt, the Gojulas had been the prime apex of human technological development in the Zoids field back in ZAC 2029, but Amadeus was a little skeptical about piloting one.

"Combat-ready status too, aside from the canopy…got a bullet through it but we'll fix that as soon as possible sir," Bartholomediscuus piped.

"No, I don't want all these new…_flashy_ units, Chief," Amadeus said, shaking his head, "It'll be too complicated for me to work. Do you have something older, something I might be able to pilot?" Amadeus strongly disliked the newer, far stronger units of human design. Human-created Zoids were largely artificial, with most of their base biological matter below 50%. Their organic brains were also heavily modified to prevent any primal behavior and to Amadeus, they seemed more machine than the animals they were supposed to be.

"Something older, sir?" Bartholomediscuus trailed off, searching his papers again before asking, "Moons…I didn't even know we had one of these…what about a Mammoth, sir? Will that be alright with you?"

Amadeus beamed a smile, "Perfect, a Mammoth will be perfect." Amadeus himself had piloted a Mammoth back in the 1980s when it was the main infantry Zoid of the Republic. He knew the controls of the Zoid well, and in his experience it had a reliable mechanical design too, "A Mammoth…good, I'll take it."

"Ok then, sir, let me bring you to the beautiful lady," Bartholomediscuus said, gesturing for the colonel to follow him, "She's an old one, been in service since 2011, if these records are right, and still rolling. Here sir, follow me to the reserve sector please."

Amadeus followed after the chief engineer, who gave out orders to his men every few minutes along the journey to the reserve sector. The smell of oil and sweat lingered in the air and the lights above, powered by Yeil's own electrical systems, flickered every now and then. Through a small window, Amadeus could make up the faint shape of the Moons already rising in the night. The atmosphere in the hangar was a mixture of tenseness and eagerness, as the soldiers were itching to get it done with as quickly as they could. Amadeus saw several Zoids pilots already strapped and ready to go in their cockpits, double-checking their instruments and many more waiting in line for their turn in the lavatory for pre-battle urination. Amadeus shared their anxiety. He would be in this battle too.

The colonel had spent hours on a lengthy teleconference with the leaders of the Republican High Command last night. So far, they were not pleased with his progress and his failure to both remove the Empire from the Khamer River areas as well as his inability to eliminate Kreep. They had demeaned him and told him all that he already knew. That if he didn't succeed now, he could be looking at a lower pay-grade. Amadeus didn't want that, but he knew the rules the day he joined the Army. Once you go down, you never go back up again. Still, he did not imagine his senior life being that of a low-ranking officer who would waste his time typing out telegrams before dying of old age, left behind and forgotten forever. In his mind, if this was going to be his final mission, he'd complete it and come back, or not come back at all. The resolution spurred him on.

It was for that very reasoning that Amadeus had asked for a Zoid to pilot. He was going to abandon all codes and conduct he had ever held in his life and dive, head-first into the battle. Amadeus had resolved to right after the teleconference had ended, it was either that or life as a soldier past his prime. Amadeus could not live any other way. In any case, it couldn't hurt to try. Amadeus didn't have any relatives left who were still alive, and he was sure no one would miss him if he was gone. With his '_screw it all_' panache Amadeus had been born with, and with the same panache was how he was going to go down.

"Here we are, sir," Bartholomediscuus announced as they arrived at the sector, "The Mammoth. She needs some repairs though, a little oiling and armor fixing here and there. Not loaded either, we'll get that done as soon as possible, though it might be hard to find rounds suited to its 30mm machine-gun, newer-production rounds tend to go brittle in the Mammoth's breech, for some reason. Also, as the Mammoth has a gunner and a tail gunner…regarding your co-pilots, sir…..?"

"Contact Lt. Colonel Wash of the 6th ZABN, Chief," Amadeus answered as he looked up at the titanic Mammoth unit in front of him, "Tell him to send two of the finest soldiers from the 19th ZABN as my co-pilots, Flengéle's men."

"Yes sir, will do. You can try out the engine too, if you want to sir but I'll need to check today's schedule to see if you can run some tests, sir. I'll inform you ASAP though." Bartholomediscuus said as he saluted the colonel and did an about-face, walking off to search for Wash.

Amadeus studied the Mammoth. It was a sturdy unit, with a bulky chassis and armor that had outclassed nearly every other Zoid at the time that it had been deployed. But with the humans and their technology, every Zoid post-ZAC 2029 had literally out-phased the Mammoth by light years. The Mammoth was just like Amadeus, old and without a chance. Dust covered the Zoid's every crevasse, indicating that it had not been in use for some time and there were visible chinks and scars across its fuselage. Its large ears, which had been modified to function as radar systems, had wires torn out of them and some of its markings had been stripped off with wear. Amadeus couldn't even make out the unit that this Zoid had belonged to, prior to its retirement. Sure, the Zoid was an anachronism right now and would be near ancient status at the rate technology on Zi was advancing, but to Amadeus there was no better Zoid to pilot in what could be his last battle.

The colonel stepped over towards a stairway ramp and dragged it to the side of the Mammoth, swerving it until the platform reached the side of the Mammoth's head, and he positioned it so it directly faced the Zoid's canopy. Amadeus wiped the sweat off his brow at the action, perhaps he _was _getting old. He was panting by the time he reached the top of the ramp, and it took sheer endurance on Amadeus' part to pull the switch to lift the canopy and enter the cockpit. Once inside and seated however, he waited for awhile to let his heart beat slow down before reaching for the safety harness to strap on. To his chagrin, his belly was too wide for the harness, and he had to spend several moments adjusting the length of the straps before it would fit. Eventually he did manage to strap it on, and alas the colonel could focus on actually piloting the Zoid.

Closing his eyes, Amadeus reached out for the control joysticks, the twin ones which commandeered the Zoid's direction and head. They were there, just as he remembered them, and Amadeus opened his eyes. Down below, his feet reached for the pedals which would enable the Zoid's legs and its speed, and on his right was the gear which he could alter to suit his needs. The three basic controls of every Zoid were there, and Amadeus smiled at the familiarity as he gazed at his instruments. The Mammoth's cockpit was utilitarian and without frills, having only the most basic of dials and buttons on it, most of which Amadeus recalled. Despite Amadeus' girth being considerably wide and the seat on his rump rock-hard and rough, he felt a sense of comfortableness in the machine. There was even a little slot at the bottom where Amadeus had used to fit in a little flask of ether should he ever feel thirsty. The Mammoth seemed to grunt in approval as Amadeus expertly began the start-up procedure, the first sound the Zoid had made since Amadeus set eyes on it.

"Colonel?" a voice suddenly yelled from below. Amadeus didn't hear it at first over the hum of the Mammoth's engine, until the source of the voice shouted a little louder, "Colonel? Colonel Amadeus?"

Amadeus bent downwards from his place high up in the Zoid and narrowed his eyes to make out the figure waving to him. It was only when the figure began making his way up the ramp that Amadeus finally realized who he was.

"Chaplain Titus!" Amadeus exclaimed as the robed cleric made his way up the ramp, his poncho bouncing up and down, "What are you doing here?" The chaplain was someone that he had only recently got to known, and in desperation had sought him out. In Amadeus' own opinion, Chaplain Aintho Titus was a well-intentioned individual who truly only wanted the best for everybody but did not quite know how to get there. Amadeus had found great solace in Titus' words, but the man occasionally came off as annoying with his holier-than-thou attitude.

"I could ask the same about you, sir," the chaplain said in between breaths as he reached the top of the platform, "Some of the soldiers wanted me to head down here – help them write some of the Sacred Scrolls' text on their Zoids and give them blessings as well."

"Well, as for me Chaplain, I'm piloting a Zoid."

The chaplain gave him an odd look which Amadeus found strangely unsettling, "Sir? If I may be so bold to ask, but _why _are you piloting a Zoid? Were you not the one so opposed to 'rusty' desk job officers piloting Zoids? This seems to be a disturbing trend now. I vaguely remember you telling me that…"

"True, I did say that," Amadeus began as his mind struggled to form some words, "But…an officer of mine has taken it into her own hands to fulfill her mission herself…and it made me think. In a way, and in such desperate times, I feel that this is what I must do."

"Sir," Chaplain Titus said patiently as he sat beside the colonel, perching himself on the edge of the cockpit, "If I may, this is suicide, sir. You may not want to admit it, colonel, but you're old now – you're no longer the vibrant young soul you were. Now is not the time for such reckless behavior. The army, this ZBG, it needs you to be where you are, where you're needed."

Amadeus eyebrow rose in mild irritation. He knew the chaplain was right, but he was too stubborn to admit it. "This _is _where I'm needed, chaplain. This is where I belong right now. Wash and the others, Imprin, Mohinder, they can handle it. Right now, chaplain, I feel like it's my duty to pilot this Zoid."

"Are you sure it's duty, sir?" the chaplain asked, "You've been stressed lately, and it's understandable given the position that you are in. But that is neither here nor there and it's no reason to throw your life away for either."

"I'm not throwing my life away."

"It certainly seems that way from my perspective, sir. I understand, your career is hanging in the balance and you have fear in you. Fear that your men will die because of you, fear that you won't succeed. Fear that after all you've done for the army, you'll be discarded like last night's leftovers because of one screw-up. But if you can't be patient and wait for the outcome, _I _fear that if you rush into it you won't live to be able to see the fruits of your work."

The chaplain brought a hand down on the Zoid, making a dull _thwak _as his palm came into contact with its armor.

"This is not where you belong, colonel."

"This…." Amadeus began, leaving the sentence incomplete. He began to second-guess his resolve as he pondered the chaplain's words. _Is Titus right? Am I rushing into things too much, is my judgment really clouded? What if I make it – what if I don't? _Thoughts swirled in Amadeus' head as he pondered if this was where his life was going to end, if this was going to be his legacy. Amadeus recalled his earliest days in the army as a humble private, recalled the friends he had made, the friends he had lost. The battles he had won, the near-death experiences he had escaped. The Zoids he had piloted, the Zoids he had killed. Amadeus thought about his life and slowly realized in his heart, what he had to do. Finally, he spoke,

"The army's all I have, Chaplain, I'm not sure you understand that." The chaplain looked taken aback as the colonel continued, "If I don't succeed in this, there's nowhere else to go for me. This is the end of the line. This…."

Amadeus looked straight into the eyes of the chaplain, and Chaplain Titus realized in the unflinching gaze of the colonel, that there was no persuading the colonel anymore, no way to change his mind.

"….this is where I belong."

.

**2238 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, Helic Republic Territory**

**ETA 01:22:19**

Ibrik looked at her own reflection in the mirror. It made her cringe. Her teeth were missing in many places and her lips were dried and cracked, skin flaking off it like snowflakes. Her bruised left eyelid was healing slowly but it still remained, made worse by the black eye bags that sagged from underneath her eyes. Grime and sweat covered her entire body and there were still stitches, staples and scars all over her skin. Her muscles were tired and every move made her wince in pain. Her ears had made a speedy recovery but the same couldn't be said about her shin, which still remained in its place within the combat cast. Ibrik was glad she was a Zoid pilot, not a foot soldier; otherwise she would be relegated to non-combat duties until her leg was fully healed.

She had just found out that the Gator they had once thought was Kreep was actually 2nd Lieutenant Hensel Permagunde, a young and naïve member of the 16th SSBN, and when Ibrik found out she feared the worst for Joanna. While she mourned Permagunde's loss, what made it even more frightening was that if Permagunde had survived and had been forced into piloting decoys for Kreep, there was a high risk that Joanna probably underwent the same procedure. Anger had seethed through her when she learnt that Republican soldiers had been captured and forced to pilot decoys…anger at the Empire, and anger at the fact that she could not do anything about it to help Joanna.

In a way it was comforting to know that Joanna might still be alive, but for all Ibrik knew, she could have been gunned down by any other unaware Republican soldier tonight. Thankfully enough, her body was not amongst the remains located. Ibrik's gut tightened as she wondered how she was going to shoot decoys on tonight's infiltration, knowing that Joanna could very well be in one of them. Pre-battle nerves suddenly skyrocketed countless notches higher and Ibrik began to think of what Joanna would do if she was in her shoes. Would she have taken the shot, considering her duty to the nation far more important like the soldier she was? Or would she be like the friend that Ibrik knew her as, the one who would risk her own life for those of her comrades? Ibrik honestly did not know for certain.

It had been that way lately. Things were slowly swerving out of Ibrik's control as the war raged on. She had been deployed on the Khamer with the rest of the 16th SSBN for nearly one year now but it had only been two weeks prior that she had experienced any real combat. The Republican forces stationed at the Red River had struggled to hold out for long, and they had in fact been able to for quite some time, for nearly forty years the Republic only had to exert a few forces to hold the border there. That all changed when the humans arrived in ZAC 2029 however, and as Zoids replaced conventional infantry as the soldiers of tomorrow, it slowly became clearer to the Republic's desk jockeys that more forces would have to be stationed at the Red River. But it was too late by now, as slowly the Zenebas Empire broke through and the second line of defense, Ibrik and the rest of the Khamer River detachment, had to handle the Empire now.

The rampage of the Empire, the fact that they had passed the Red River border, did not register with Ibrik until the last few days. The gravity of that statement held no sway with her until she met face to face with 'Kreep' and she had lost both her Sister as well as two others. Two were now confirmed to be KIA, and Ibrik barely knew if Joanna was still alive. Ibrik wanted to grab something, someone, anything, and just scream in its face. She could sense strong emotions boiling inside her in turmoil, and she itched to get them out, to exert all the stress in anger, sadness, and hatred. But Ibrik couldn't find anything to grip, there was nothing, either physical or metaphysical for her to direct her emotions towards. No one to blame for the war and the chaos it caused. She could not even get to grips with her own life, and she felt it slowly slipping away as she desperately tried to pull it together. It finally dawned on her this war was far more dangerous than she had ever expected, and that it wasn't fun and games anymore.

In the span of four days, Ibrik felt that she was looming closer and closer to madness. All of a sudden, her kill record didn't seem as fancy as it was four days ago. All of a sudden, she couldn't care for the damn number. Ibrik did not want Joanna to be another addition to it, but there was little she could do if that did happen. She had once not cared much for the enemy, she had never put much thought about it before but when they were in her sights and she pulled the trigger, Ibrik didn't feel any remorse. No regret, no sadness, just….emptiness. But now fear and anxiety would grip her and Ibrik was secretly afraid that she would not be able to pull the trigger. She didn't want to fail Officer Giuseppe, but she didn't want to take the risk either. She was, as the humans put it – caught in a rock and a tight place.

A knock sounded from the other side of the bathroom. "Ibrik, are you done?" the voice asked, "Damn magnetic storm's starting soon, I need to use the bathroom now before it gets worse!"

"Yeah, I know," Ibrik called out, "I'm coming."

Ibrik looked back at the mirror as she heard Corporal Alfet'Akh Lynet, another Sister of the 16th SSBN, grumble. Rummaging through her duffel bag, Ibrik pushed aside her pocket-watch to reach for a canister of fine red 'battle dust.' As she twisted open the aluminum lid, a cloud of dust rose in the air. Ibrik took a deep breath of it, and instantly she could smell the scented flavor of the _poi_ flowers used to create the dust. Legend was that thousands of years ago a great war between the tribes had been fought on the Central Continent, and that the poi flowers grew from the blood of those who died here. It was for this very reason that the poi flower was grounded and processed to battle dust, a type of facial war paint which every tribe across Zi used to mark their faces in war. It was an ancient tradition, one that was still commonly practiced throughout the planet.

Ibrik dipped two fingers into the canister, savoring the sensation that pressing her fingers down on the grain created. A cloud puffed from the pressure and as she brought her fingers back out of the canister, loose flecks of the dust trailed off. She then placed them on her left cheek, and dragged them across it, creating a red streak with her fingers, the mark of a warrior from the Wind Tribe. Ibrik stuffed the canister back into her duffel bag and looked back at the mirror. She struggled to smile slightly, the red mark contorting with her cheek as she did.

_Looks better now_, Ibrik pointed out as she observed her reflection. The red mark stood out in contrast to her pale skin and brown, the only feature distinguishable from the rest of her face. The knocking from Lynet intensified but Ibrik ignored her, keeping her focus straight at her reflection. _I look….different now. But there's still…something missing. Not quite…_ Ibrik reached in for the canister again and opened it, reaching for another helping of the flower dust.

"Ibrik!"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Ibrik answered curtly.

Carefully positioning her fingers by studying her reflection, Ibrik brought the dust to her other cheek and squeezed them onto it, creating a circular splotch before lifting them up again. Then, hovering her fingers closer towards the bridge of the nose, she made a horizontal line across and right before she touched her nose, brought in down in a sharp curve. Ibrik lowered her hand and observed her own art. She had done the circular piece nicely, but the mark that accompanied it, which was supposed to resemble something like the number '7' ended up a little crooked. Still, it did somewhat look like what Ibrik was attempting to create, the Wind Tribe mark of coldness. Like the winds that would wreck and push down anything that stood in their way without emotion, so would Ibrik be like those winds. Her mark was one of indifference, and had been used by warriors before her to warn their enemies that they held no moral inhibitions.

Ibrik looked at herself now. With two markings on each cheek, one for the warrior, and the other for the cold wind, Ibrik felt complete. Now, she felt prepared for the enemy. Now, she was ready for the oncoming battle. She would be remorseless, killing everyone in sight, leaving all ethics and idealism behind where it belonged. Or at least, that's what Ibrik told herself behind all of the bravado of the markings. Deep down, she knew that she wasn't sure whether she would be able to pull the trigger when the time came. Ibrik couldn't help but feel those strange, perpetual emotions of resentment and fear mixed with several others in one, incoherent correlation. She didn't understand what she felt and right now, she was too exhausted to care anymore. She felt her gut churning and before Ibrik knew it, she vomited the whole dinner's worth of MREs into the sink, the bile spewing out of her lips and nose.

"Ibrik?" Lynet's voice asked in surprise as she curled the gurgling sounds, "You alright in there?"

Tears naturally came down Ibrik's eyes from the sudden regurgitation, smearing the facial marks that she had taken such consideration to paint on. Ibrik clutched her stomach in pain as she spat out the remains of the vomit from her lips and stood over the sink for a few moments, gripping the sides of it for support as she panted trying to catch her breath. Nausea filled her mind. She craned her neck upwards. Her markings were now ruined, ugly blemishes all over her face. Ibrik turned away in disgust as her knees gave way and she collapsed on the dirty floor, burying her head in her face. Outside, the magnetic storm was picking up and Ibrik could hear the heavy downpour and thunder roaring in the background.

"Ibrik?" Lynet asked again. Ibrik grit her teeth in irritation at the corporal's voice, her constant presence was beginning to grate on Ibrik's nerves.

"Go away," Ibrik managed weakly.

"What did you say? I can't quite hear you…"

"I said go away! _GO AWAY!_" Ibrik shrieked with more ferocity than she had ever let loose. Immediate silence came from the other door, and then Ibrik heard the clomping of boots as Lynet left, clearly stunned. Ibrik buried her face deeper in her hands.

"Just…all of you…" Ibrik whispered, "…just go away. Just go..."

.

**2332 hours, Sep 10****th**

_**Amal**_**, Helic Republic Territory**

**ETA 00:28:58**

"Yebel?" Claudia called out.

"Present."

Claudia ticked Corporal Abelein Yebel off the attendance list before calling out another name, "Yyag- um, sorry if I'm mispronouncing this, Yyagzigg?"

"Present!"

Claudia ticked off the final member of the 16th SSBN as she said to herself, "All members present and accounted for." In between every few names or so there were more names which had been crossed out in a thick black marker. Those were Sisters no longer affiliated with the 16th SSBN. Of the fifty-five original members of the battalion including herself, twelve were KIA, two were MIA, and one had to be assigned to another battalion because there were no more Sisters to be her partner. This left Claudia with exactly forty women under her command, and Claudia found no comfort with their dwindling numbers. Who knew how many more would be lost on this night. No matter the headcount though, Claudia swore she would come back alive.

She had a son waiting for her, back in Helic City, and not even Hell itself could stop her from escaping death's clutches. Tonight, she promised herself, she was going to kill Kreep. There was no turning back now, she had made the decision to go out in the field and she was going to see it through. She had even ensured this by wearing her Sniper Master's Badge, placing it on her right forearm. Claudia loved her son, and knew that it was a risky decision, putting her own person's in harm's way, but she also had a duty to the Republic, which she had to uphold as well. It was a difficult decision, to say the least, but Claudia knew where her responsibilities laid. The words that she told her new Sister, Sergeant Scylla, rang in her mind, _I'm fighting for my family's future_.

Claudia searched the gathering of soldiers before her and spotted the sergeant seated at the back. Claudia frowned when she saw Scylla; the sergeant had black rings under her eyes and an almost demonic look to her face. She sat down curled in a ball, and sweat streamed down from her forehead, soaking her uniform. Claudia's good first impression of the sergeant was slowly being tarnished. She feared that Scylla would not perform to her maximum capability – tonight's mission required everything they had and that perhaps, Claudia had chosen the wrong Sister. She made a mental note to speak with Scylla later about her status before turning her attention back to the assembly of 16th SSBN women, who were all on the ground in this secretive and impromptu mission briefing. They were located in a musty room that was once a mechanic's office, and oil and grime were present everywhere. Claudia glanced down at her watch as she began,

"We have about half an hour more, Sisters, before the second phase of Operation Season begins. We've successfully held the front in the morning, and now we have to infiltrate Zenebas territory to deliver a blow in the cover of the night and the magnetic storm. I'm sure you all heard the colonel's briefing, but as you all should know, that is not _our _primary mission. Our primary mission is to eliminate Kreep and our cover mission, to not arouse suspicions amongst the rest of the ZBG, is to play a supporting role to the ZABN units." Claudia said all this in a quiet tone as she didn't want anyone overhearing them.

The smells of a mechanic's duty were strong in the building, and the atmosphere was tense and taut. Claudia could see the expressions of anxiety on the faces of her women, and could sense their worry about Kreep. She knew they were most likely wondering how they were going to catch him, and Claudia found herself irritated at their expressions of fear. Claudia was confident in her newly-devised strategy, and quickly explained it to them to vanquish their worries,

"We are to divide into four-person groups, making it a total of ten groups of four. Flengéle's men have been placed under the command of the colonel himself now, and they've totaled themselves up to a viable battalion but are still slightly short on manpower. That's why I want two groups supporting each ZABN, and the remaining four on the colonel's one."

Immediately, confused looks came across many of their faces but Ibrik ignored them and elaborated on her strategy, "Why I'm doing this is because in four-woman teams, unlike the traditional single units per squadron – you can support each other. Whilst two others handle the support, another two can play overwatch and keep an eye out for Kreep, leaving the others to do their job. You take this in rotation, with intervals of hours as well. If one group spots Kreep, they can alert the other three groups supporting the same ZABN to rush to their aid. It's a foolproof strategy."

Looks of approval finally appeared on her soldiers' faces, and Claudia felt encouraged at the positive response as she began yelling out names, organizing them into groups. Sisters walked around the room to split themselves into their little groups and Claudia spent nearly three minutes organizing them before finishing off, "…. And the last groups supporting the remnants of the 19th ZABN are myself and Scylla, as well as Lynet and Sculino."

As Scylla lumbered over with Lynet and Sculino, Claudia resumed her briefing when the murmurs died down, "We're at a difficult position right now, Sisters. The magnetic storm will kill all navigation and radar systems, as well as satellite support. Whilst this ensures that Zenebas electronic defenses and their air support will be down, it also means that we have to use our actual eyes and ears instead of relying on our instruments. We have to trust our instinct now more than ever. Kreep will be hard to spot, do not forget that – so you have to watch out and take in everything you see. Wireless communication will only be effective from up to fifty-meters, so if you need long-distance transmissions to alert your fellow Sisters about Kreep, use the secured Republican network instead."

Claudia took a short, barely noticeable breath as she finished her sentence. Now, it was the hard part. She was already pushing her Sisters to the boundaries, but now she'd have to go beyond that. Now, she would have to test how far they would go. How far they _could_. Claudia gave a slight glance to Scylla as she continued,

"Most of you are also at this point, likely to be aware that the Zenebas Empire has been utilizing hum- excuse me, living decoys to draw attention away from Kreep. They are using POWs from our side and forcing them to pilot Zoids, using some sort of charge planted inside the Zoid to coax them into doing whatever they are ordered to. These Zoids will be painted bright red like Kreep and will also appear as though they are sniping. They'll be easy to spot in the dark, but don't take pot-shots unless you're certain that that is Kreep. If you're wrong about it, Kreep will trace your shot back to you and you will be killed. Make no mistake about that."

"Inside these Zoids are Republican soldiers," Claudia went on, this time keeping a longer glance on Scylla, whose eyes were averted, "I want you all to not have any regrets, not hold it against you, when you're taking the shot. If there's a red Zoid in between your crosshairs, and you think it's Kreep – take the shot. Don't start wondering if you're aiming at a friendly. If you make second-guesses and hesitate like that, I guarantee you, you will not survive this mission. I give all of you authorization to fire at will, use your better judgment. Don't hesitate when you pull that trigger, if you succumb to that fear, it's exactly what Kreep wants. Kreep thrives off fear. We are at war and these brave men and women of the Republic should've gladly given their lives instead of falling under service to the Empire."

"They had their chance," Claudia said icily, "Now; they are victims of circumstances and our enemy. We kill the enemy."

No one spoke for a moment; there were not even whispers at all. Just awkward silence and the sounds of thunder roaring outside. It had finally dawned on them that they were going to kill, or be killed. Claudia took another look at her watch. "Alright, around fifteen minutes until we mobilize. I want you all to get into your Zoid units now, pre-launch checks, make sure that you have everything on the ready and the get-go. You're all dismissed. Today we've dressed our wounds and buried our dead. Tonight, we hunt and kill the enemy. Good hunting, Sisters."

As the Sisters left the building in groups of twos and threes, Claudia made her way towards Scylla, and grabbed her by the arm, "Scylla, come." The sergeant turned around, her expression lifeless as she followed Claudia to a corner of the room. Claudia folded her arms as she looked at the entirety of Scylla.

"What the hell is this?"

"Ma'am?" Scylla asked, her voice sounding hoarse.

"I said, what the hell is this?" Claudia asked again, her question raising an octave higher, "What do you think this is, Scylla? Preschool? Huh? We are at war, damnit, and I can't have one of my Sisters, let alone my partner, go out on the battlefield like this!"

"The hell happened to you?" Claudia questioned one more time, her patience waning.

"What is what, ma'am?" Scylla said, raising her arms defensively.

"You need to shape up, Scylla. You look dead, sick – like you haven't slept in days. You look like a drug addict without a fix, a beggar on the streets. What has happened to you? Didn't I order you to take your rest? Huh?"

Scylla didn't say a word. Claudia felt anger boiling inside her and she released it in the form of a tight smack across Scylla's head. The strike was painfully sharp, and Scylla's face opened up in shock as Claudia smacked her right hand across Ibrik's cheek. A red tinge imprinted itself on Scylla's face and guiltily enough, Claudia felt good as she released all her bottled fury. On reaction, the sergeant's eyes opened a little wider and Claudia struggled to control her temper as she scolded the sergeant.

"Wake up, Scylla." Claudia said menacingly, "I know you lost your friend, and that's very hard and all, but you have to realize that you're not the only one with a stake in this. It's too late to change now, but if I could, I'd assign myself with another Sister. There are limits, Scylla. Human or Zoidian, there are limits to how much the human mind….the Zoidian mind…and body can take. You can't keep pushing yourself – you need the sleep or your body goes sick."

"Nightmares, ma'am," Scylla whispered, barely audible.

"'Scuse me?"

"Nothing, ma'am." Scylla stuttered, "I'll…I…I won't fail you out there, ma'am."

Claudia looked down at the sergeant, her cheek still red from the slap. There were grimy smears on her face too, as though there had been some kind of paint on it before. Scylla weakly saluted her before heading for the exit out of the room, stumbling each step of the way on her metal cast. Claudia now felt almost pitiful for her, but hid the emotion, choosing not to dwell on such sentimental thoughts right before the battle. The calm before the storm was about to end soon, and the battle was about to begin. Claudia looked outside a window at the rain, and gazed at the reflected image, obscured by the raindrops from a brewing storm.


	6. Chapter Six

**Excerpt from AAR B-117**

**Filed under 'OP Season'**

**Dated Sep 18****th****, ZAC 2033**

**Account as per Lt. Colonel Grant Wash (6****th**** ZABN)**

_0000 hours on Sep 11__th__ was the launching of the second assault, the infiltration into Zenebas territory under the cover of both night and rain. It was part of Operation Season, the edited version of the previous fallback battle-plan (Plan Aveq-98) in the event that the Zenebas Empire makes it past the Red River. The first assault, which as mentioned above, involved driving Zenebas forces out and holding Republican lines, had been fairly successful and had taken three days to accomplish. The subsequent second phase of Operation Season, the night-time infiltration, took only an additional eight hours or so to successfully drive out all of the Zenebas Empire forces out of the Khamer River's borders. We had begun the infiltration with a tactic suggested by Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus himself, the creeping barrage which our forces in both the major territories of Amal and Yeil used to breach the Zenebas defensive perimeter and take them by surprise…_

_.  
_

**0229 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

Colonel Shaddai-Av Amadeus had not experienced the thrilling sensation of battle that he did now since the last time he piloted a Zoid. Inside the cockpit of his Mammoth, Amadeus stared out through his orange canopy and marveled at the explosions that appeared before him like sudden fireworks. High above, the magnetic storm was roaring, the perfect cover for their infiltration as rain descended from the heavens and lightning lit up the night sky. In the distance, he made out the Zenebas forces scampering away, retreating like the frightened vermin they were as they leered back. Amadeus laughed. Despite the inherent property damage caused by the creeping barrage order he had issued, the massive destruction it caused towards the Zenebas forces pleased him to such an extent that he nearly forgot the distance he had to keep from the Cannon Tortoise units behind him, who were firing their heavy artillery howitzers as cover for the advancing infiltration.

"Sir!" Corporal Hunte Nomad yelled from his gunner position on the Mammoth's back, "You're going too quickly! It's one-hundred thirty per minute, sir; you've got to slow down!"

Amadeus heard the corporal's warning and immediately switched the gear of the Mammoth to reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator, prompting the Mammoth to roar as it backtracked its feet, making splashing sounds as it stepped on puddles. If Amadeus had not slowed down and fallen back with the rest of the infiltration force, he and his two crewmen would have been obliterated by their own Cannon Tortoise's shells. A creeping barrage provided cover by eliminating any obstacles in front of the attack force from behind, but if the attack force advanced too quickly, the Cannon Tortoises would hit them on accident. Amadeus' infiltration force had to be sure to keep their distance from their own units, at least until they passed the second defensive perimeter set up by the Empire.

Turning his attention to his sides, Amadeus checked that his fellow soldiers were advancing at the exact same speed, just to be certain that there would be no friendly casualties. They were all doing remarkably well, and Amadeus noted that Flengéle, despite being an egotistical bastard, had trained his men properly. They had had the highest losses amongst all the ZABNs during the first phase of Operation Season, coupled by the loss of their CO. The remnants of the 19th ZABN, mixed with several black sheep soldiers, had been tasked with infiltrating the western half of Zenebas Territory in Amal along with the 17th ZABN, whilst the other two battalions were charging onwards at Yeil. So far, their progress was well, despite the almost painfully slow rate at their infiltration; they had made it through the first defensive perimeter without any casualties on their part and were fast approaching the second one.

"Second defensive perimeter approaching, sir," Nomad informed his commanding officer.

Amadeus reflexively looked down at the screen which was supposed to display a topographical layout, but found that there was nothing but static when he turned it on. Amadeus laughed at his forgetfulness. The magnetic storm had rendered satellite communications ineffective, and so the capability of satellite imaging of the world around them was gone as well. Along with that, they had also lost the capability for long-wave wireless communication between friendly units. The only thing they had was a link to the Republican channel, which since every Republican Zoid had a built-in beacon, they could access without the need of external help. Despite the troublesome limitations placed on them, Amadeus knew that the enemy was suffering from the same problem and at the same time, at least it would keep the damned Storches off their backs.

The rain made pinging sounds as it bounced off Amadeus' canopy, blurring his view. His view however, had been obstructed since the sortie. Despite having three moons dangling in the sky, the town of Amal was dark and somehow even more morbid than it had been before with the raging storm. Rain obscured and smeared nearly every detail and the thunder was deafeningly loud. These were not ideal conditions for an operation, but there was little Amadeus could do. He was used to the climate on Delpoi however, and had chosen the time of the operation for this specific reason. That the weather would make it harder for each side was true, but that the Empire probably did not suspect them pulling such a risky attack.

"Second perimeter," Nomad announced, "We're here."

Looking ahead, Amadeus saw stubborn Molgas firing at them with their gatlings wildly before being blown to bits by the Tortoises' high-velocity shells. Several Malders were trying to imitate the Tortoises as well, deploying self-loaded mortars from the interiors of their hull but failing at it, firing off perhaps only one or two rounds before being decimated. Amadeus even saw a Twinhorn unit, the Zenebas equivalent of his Mammoth, retreating and had to resist the urge to charge forward and gorge it with his horns. The fantasy did made him smile though, and Amadeus couldn't help but ask himself for the umpteenth time, why he had not done this earlier. The thrill of battle had invigorated his sour disposition, and the rush of adrenaline surging in Amadeus' veins made him ponder if this was why Flengéle had jumped into the cockpit of the Tortoise as well. The words that he told Chaplain Titus suddenly sounded so much truer. _This is where I belong_.

"Second perimeter breached, we are at the heart of Zenebas territory, sir,"

"Thank you, Nomad," Amadeus replied. Nomad was a good soldier, a member of the Earth Tribe (which was traditionally associated with Guylos, earning him some scorn), who was a fiend with the Panova surface-to-air guns mounted on the Mammoth's back. He had been personally chosen by Wash himself, and Amadeus knew that Wash had chosen well, "Alright, short-wave communication should work…."

As the Cannon Tortoises' barrage came to a stop, Amadeus switched on the Mammoth's short-wave transmitter and spoke into his headphones' microphone, "Testing, testing. This is Colonel Amadeus speaking, if you can hear me, patch yourself into this frequency." Immediately the serial numbers from the beacons of the other units registered on Amadeus' screen, which showed all contacts transmitting by the same frequency. Amadeus did a quick count, and when he was sure that all of them were connected to the network, he declared, "Everyone safe and accounted for. Good."

"Alright people, listen up! We've got a lot of work ahead of us, so let's work fast! Ordnance Corps! Get your Godos' asses moving, I want the Cannon Tortoises resupplied and ready to lock and load soon! We're going to need 'em soon! Sappers, CEBN people, spread out and eliminate all local network lines of the Zenebas Empire. Lay out mines as well, away from our AOO but just far enough so we can spot if the Zenebas assholes are launching a counterattack and trip into one of our mines! I want flares up too! Our reinforcements aren't going to know that the coast is clear unless we tell 'em, come on let's go, go, go!"

Instantly, after the orders were given out, each unit shuffled to do their own specific duties. Pink flares lit up in the sky to alert the other half of the ZABN which had stayed behind that it was clear to advance now, as long-wave communication was not an option. Amadeus had wisely chosen to limit the first wave's number, so as to make their infiltration faster than it would've been with another twenty or so Zoids. Amongst the reinforcements were the sniper units of the 16th SSBN, whom Amadeus wanted on the field as soon as possible. Combat engineers in their modified Elephantus units, whose twin Maxter 35mm beam cannons had been replaced by manipulators, rushed forward to dig out network cables which had been planted under the streets. Others scrambled to set up the mines whilst Amadeus ordered he and his ZABN soldiers forward to cover more ground and to keep watch until the rest of the Zoids were done with their tasks.

As Amadeus put his foot down on the accelerator pedal, making his Mammoth head forward in a lumbering sprint, he heard Nomad over the line, "Colonel? I don't think this is such a good position to be in, sir."

"Why not?" Amadeus asked as he brought the Mammoth to a stop and simultaneously commanded the others to spread out so they would cover more ground.

"Well sir, there've been rumors going around, that the Zenebas have sharpshooters….snipers of their own. What if they catch us out here on the open?" Nomad voiced his worry.

_There's only one_. Amadeus thought, but kept the knowledge to himself. Over the line, Corporal Terri Red laughed as she spoke from his position on the tip of the Mammoth's tail, manning the anti-infantry gun, "That's all bull, Nomad. I for one don't believe a word of that."

"You never know…" Nomad began before Red rudely interrupted him.

Amadeus heard Red snorting in derision and allowed her to have her fun. There was no point in worrying his own troops. He wanted them to be blissfully unaware of Kreep so they could focus on the mission at hand though Amadeus worried that he would be unable to do the same. Now that the artillery barrage by the Tortoises had stopped, Amadeus found himself taking fleeting looks at every single window, every hole in a building, looking out for an ideal spot for a sniper. So far there had been no reported casualties by Kreep's hand, but Amadeus knew that it was only a matter of time. The operation's plan after infiltration of the Zenebas defensive perimeters didn't involve a barrage, from now on it was a textbook assault with artillery support which Amadeus hoped would be done before the night was over. He hated lying to his soldiers, but he knew that in this case, this white lie was necessary.

"We've had no reports about Zenebas marksmen in this area so far, corporal," Amadeus answered with a carefully controlled tone, "As far as I know; only we have snipers on our side. So I wouldn't worry."

Amadeus heard a satisfied grunt on Nomad's side and he let out a sigh. Wordlessly, Amadeus added in his head, _Yet._ _I wouldn't worry yet._

_.  
_

**0258 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

"Hold scope…." Scylla's voice croaked from the other end of the line, "Fire when ready."

Claudia held a deep breath before releasing it. The Guysack's rifle was lined up slightly above the Malder's head, as Zi's gravity would bring the bullet down from Claudia's elevated location. One round would be enough to smash right through the armor and kill the pilot inside, effectively eliminating the Zoid. Even with the rain fogging up her scope, Claudia could more or less predict the path of the bullet. Thankfully enough, as she was not using a beam rifle, her bullet's trajectory would not be affected by the magnetic storm that was pouring from above. Even if Scylla was a little off, it was better than piloting the standard Guysack. Claudia waited several seconds as the sides of the Malder's shell hissed open to reveal its mortars before she pulled the trigger. The crack of the rifle was covered over by the sounds of thunder above and Claudia's entire cockpit jerked with the force of the bullet leaving the barrel.

There was a tense moment before Scylla finally registered the shot, "Hit." Claudia herself switched the glasses to scan mode and enhanced the resolution, surveying the results of her shot.

The bullet had arced just as she had intended, dropping slightly as it left the barrel before it landed right on the Malder's clamshell cockpit, tearing it apart. Fire had erupted from the Malder's head and to Claudia's relief; she had timed the shot so the Imperial Zoid would not have any time to fire a mortar towards the friendly forces behind her. Claudia veered the Guysack's tail to the right so she could see the second Malder unit, which was right behind the one she killed, taking cover behind a windmill. Claudia pursed her lips in concealed relief as she saw that it had been shot down too, most likely by Lynet and her Sister, Sculino, who were placed just ten meters away in an improvised foxhole.

"Enemy down, ma'am," Lynet said over the channel to her commanding officer. Short-wave wireless still worked due to the lack of magnetic interference in the distance between them.

"Mine too," Claudia answered, "Did you mask your shot?"

"Yes ma'am," Lynet confirmed, and so Claudia patched herself into the other two Guysack units who were taking watch until their rotations finished. As they were supporting the 19th ZABN and had more sniper units than the other battalions, Claudia had ordered eight Sisters to play their cover role while the other eight took watch for Kreep.

"Anything from up there?" Claudia asked.

"No ma'am," an old sergeant named Mahony Vree answered, "From up here on the cathedral's tower I can see everything, ma'am. No sign of Kreep so far."

"Keep your eyes peeled then, Vree," Claudia cautioned, "Night's still young and the battle's far from won. He'll come. Eventually."

Claudia had been teetering on the edge of anxiety since the moment the flare went up in the night sky. The second her battalion rendezvoused with Colonel Amadeus', she had asked whether there had been any sightings of Kreep. The colonel had told her that there had been none so far and for the past forty minutes or so, Kreep still had not reared his ugly head. Of course there was the possibility that Kreep was in Yeil rather than Amal, but they had last sighted him here, leading Claudia to believe that this was where he'd be. If he _was _in Yeil however, she would not know until the end of Operation Season. Whilst most of the ZBG believed that the name of the operation was chosen for the monsoon season of the current time, Claudia knew better. Season was merely short for 'Open Season,' open season on Kreep at least.

Claudia's continuous failure to kill Kreep irritated her, how could an entire battalion now be able to locate and hunt one Zoid? She was convinced that Kreep had something else up its sleeve, some new secret technology, which was an excuse she used to justify her inability to kill him. The colonel too, was irritated with her inability, and Claudia did not know what to say nor expect when she had heard that he was going to pilot a Zoid into battle as well. She did not know if it was because he wanted to experience the front first hand to see what was taking so long, or if he simply, like her, decided to take matters into his own hands so things would be done properly. In either case, she did not question the colonel – and she still was not able to kill Kreep. Kreep was like a hidden specter, a mysterious legend, just like its namesake. A predator who kept people in line.

_There's nothing you can do now aside from keeping a sharp eye out,_ Claudia reminded herself as she continued surveying the battlefield. The squadrons that they were supporting were just finishing off the remainders of the Zenebas force, disabling their Zoids as the enemy pilots gave themselves up in surrender. On the horizon, lightning cast shadows in multiple directions as the rain soaked every single surface, their droplets clinging on every face. From Claudia's position on the roof of an apartment complex, she had a pretty decent view of their location and used it to her advantage, peering in the distance for any sign of a red dash.

"No red…" Claudia whispered to herself, forgetting that she was connected to Scylla, who was functioning as the spotter this time around.

"Ma'am?" Scylla's voice sounded much better than it was prior to the mission, a little more firm and steady. Despite that change though, Claudia had doubts about how well Scylla would perform in battle. Claudia hoped that he she had shaken the sergeant enough for her to get a grip.

"No, I was just thinking about that asshole Kreep…"

"No ma'am, that's not what I meant." Scylla interjected, "I was just scanning through the Republican network's reports, and I picked up a distress signal beacon that just began registering itself moments ago, its close-by too, only thirty meters or so down the road. From what I can tell from the serial code….it's a unit from the 6th ZABN."

"6th ZABN?" Claudia repeated, momentarily confused, "There aren't any 6th ZABN Zoids here in Amal…are you sure it's the 6th?"

"Yes ma'am," Scylla affirmed before reading out the number, "Right here, 6-ZABN-1109-08."

Claudia let out a low drone as she heard the serial number. It _was_ a 6th ZABN unit, at least that's what the beacon registered it as. There was the possibility that it was simply another unit that got slapped into the remnants of the 17th ZABN…in fact, there were at least a thousand possibilities as to what could have happened. But Claudia's trained instinct told her that something was wrong with the situation. If anything, the whole distress beacon felt like a set-up…like a trap to lure them in. Hairs stood on Claudia's neck as she thought of the possibility of encountering Kreep. If Kreep was using bait, two could play that game.

Reading her mind, Scylla asked, "Ma'am…could this be….?"

"Don't inform the ZABNs about anything," Claudia sharply replied, "I want you to tell them the location of the beacon and also tell them to send a squad to check it out. Then trail them with the Guysack, anyone asks we're just relocating because we've fired one too many shots. If this is what I think this is….Kreep will be there." It was a risky gamble to use their own soldiers as decoys now and in a way, they were sinking to the Empire's level.

As Scylla patched herself into the nearest squadron to do exactly what Claudia ordered her to, Claudia connected herself with Lynet, Vree, and the last sniper of their squad, Nagram, "Sisters, we've received a distress beacon…most likely a trap set up by Kreep. Scylla and I are going to trail after the squadron sent to check out the situation, I want Lynet and Sculino to follow after us on the ground and watch out from there. Vree, maintain your current position and Nagram, keep your eye on the rest of these ZABNs just in case it turns out to be a distraction. Understand?"

It took several moments before Claudia's lengthy dictation to register in the other three Sisters, but once they did and as soon as Scylla had finished speaking with the ZABN soldiers, Claudia immediately ordered their relocation. As Scylla made the agile Guysack leap to the roof of the next building, closing the gap between them with relative ease, Claudia rotated the Guysack's tail to follow after the squadron of Snakes which were advancing towards the location of the beacon. Claudia felt the cockpit rocking dangerously and feared that the Guysack's feet did not have enough traction to counter the slippery surfaces of the roof, but eventually they arrived at where the supposed beacon was situated, hiding behind an ancient spire of a monastery.

"Lynet, Sculino, are you in position?" Claudia asked as he looked down at the Snakes squadron. From what she could tell, there was actually a Zoid broken down on the streets below, flames surging from its chassis but not so bad as to cause a chain reaction explosion. Claudia's resolve of Kreep's presence in Amal began to waver as she saw the sight.

"Yes ma'am," Sculino answered this time from her concealed position in a back alley adjacent to the source of the beacon, "It's a Godos, from what I can see. Legs got completely blown off too."

Claudia increased her resolution the maximum, but the rain blurred out everything in her view. The only thing she could see were the Snakes units as they approached cautiously, encircling the burning Godos unit. There was something strangely suspicious about the whole situation, and Claudia scanned the area around the Godos and noted out several spots where a sniper could be concealed. There was no sign of red anywhere, but she found no comfort in that. The Godos felt like bait that had been left for a hunter…and Claudia was doing the same by using the squadron as bait, lying to them to conceal the truth. It was a calculated risk, and Claudia felt no shame or inhibitions with her actions…such emotions at a time like this was irrelevant and only served to distract her. _The ends justify the means_, Claudia reminded herself whenever second-guesses came up, _the end justifies the means._

"Ma'am?" Lynet asked over the line, "One of the pilots is dismounting their Zoid…going to see if she can salvage the pilot, ma'am."

"Yeah I can see that," Claudia stated as she pressed her eyes onto the cockpit's field glasses and observed the exchange. One of the Snakes pilots had dismounted from her Zoid's cockpit and had drawn her sidearm as she approached the cockpit of the Godos. Claudia didn't blink for one second as she watched the subsequent events unfold one by one.

One moment the soldier was slowly stepping towards the Godos' cockpit and the next the distinguishable yet muffled sound of a sniper rifle rang in the air and hit the burning Godos, resulting in a stunning inferno of an explosion that sent bright orange and pink flames into the air. In a split second another round fired and impaled one of the Snakes just below the jaw, striking the Zoid's flammable gears which led to the entire Zoid's skull to implode on itself. Claudia felt her jaw drop in horror as the soldier who had ventured out of her cockpit got tossed into the air, her whole body mangled with fire as the other Snakes' units retreated for cover, madly firing their machine-guns in fear. Claudia wanted to scream at the idiots for their foolhardy maneuver but ignored the desire as her brain immediately formulated the next best course of action.

Pushing the headphones down onto her ears, Claudia barked at her Sister, "Scylla! Where is Kreep?"

.

**0317 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

Ibrik had been sticking a syringe pumped with adrenaline stimulants into her neck when the Godos bait went up in flames, significantly damaging the Snakes squadron. The syringe was one of four that Chief Medical Officer Fitz had given to her – she remembered his warning, to be careful with how fast she used them, but her physical body was beginning to cave in after an hour from the last shot. She had been gripping and releasing her grip in a reciprocating fashion on the pocket watch in her breast pocket when she spotted the explosion. Ibrik had not expected such a sudden sighting from Kreep, and quickly retracted the needle from her vein, grunting from the force of her tug as she threw it into a disposable bag. Through the chaos, Ibrik reminded herself to throw the bag away later; stimulants were not exactly held in the highest regard in the Army.

"Scylla! Where is Kreep?" Ibrik heard her commanding officer and Sister, Officer Giuseppe, yell over the line.

Fear instantly struck Ibrik as the one question she had hoped her superior officer would not ask her rang through the line. The fear of failure. What was she going to say, _I'm sorry ma'am, but I was too busy staying awake to notice where Kreep was?_ Almost involuntarily, Ibrik increased the resolution and her cockpit's secondary screen immediately focused on the explosion to see if she could locate the source of the shot. There was nothing there, no dash of red at all and all Ibrik could see was the Snakes squadron panicking, their armor falling off them like molting snakes from the damage the explosion caused. The ball of fire and smoke that rose in the air lit up the entire block and detritus from the Godos' body was sprayed in every direction like loose shrapnel. Ibrik began to panic and started the habitual clenching of her fists as she struggled to get an answer out of her own lips.

"I-I couldn't tell, ma'am…" Ibrik said, struggling with each word, "It was all too…sudden…"

Ibrik heard a throaty growl of frustration from Officer Giuseppe. Perhaps the growl came from the officer's anger at having been unable to stop the explosion before it happened, but Ibrik doubted that. She knew that in a way, she had failed her duty. If she had been focusing on the screen instead of trying to keep her own self awake, perhaps she might have seen the flash of the muzzle. But then her combat efficiency would have been hampered from her exhaustion. It was a dilemma and Ibrik had to make the choice, she just hoped that she had made the right one for the long run. Ibrik tried to bury the despair she felt at her failure as Officer Giuseppe snapped into action, giving out an order to Lynet and Sculino, who still remained inertial.

"Two out of five immobilized, ma'am," Ibrik heard Sculino report over the open channel, "The pilot that got out – her unit's down. So is another one, nailed by sniper fire."

"Mayday!" one of the Snakes' pilot cried out over the open short-wave channel, his voice mangled by static, "If anyo-_kzzz_- can hear me, this is Lt. Gau Jorge of –_zzz_-17th ZABN, we are under – um, eh – _kzzzz_ - sniper fire! Requesting support from the 16th –_kzzzzz_-BN!" Ibrik was stunned when she heard the sudden SOS over the connection.

"Ma'am?" Lynet asked, "To engage or not to engage in conversation?" Ibrik found herself cringing when she heard the corporal's voice. She and Corporal Lynet had not particularly been on the best of terms and Ibrik now felt awkward around her. She knew she should apologize, but something kept preventing from. At any rate they were in battle, and battle was no time for emotions.

Ibrik heard her commanding officer curse in a swear word alien to her ears before giving an order, "Alright, say you're in range. Ask them how they know it's a sniper."

Lynet did just that and came back with a response moments later, "They say because they saw a red Zoid firing at them from above, ma'am." Ibrik's worst fears were confirmed.

"Firing at them?" Claudia clarified, "Ask them whether or not they actually _saw _the Zoid firing at them."

_Because it might be a decoy_, Ibrik knew the true motive behind the question and felt her heart rate increase as she impatiently awaited Lynet's answer. _It might be a decoy. Might be Joanna. _Worry and fear simultaneously gripped Ibrik's mind as sweat poured from her forehead in rivulets. The uncertainty of her predicament, another thing that she could not control, troubled Ibrik greatly. For hours on end before the mission began, Ibrik had wondered if just because Joanna's body was not found, could it be that she was definitely still serving as a decoy? On one hand she wanted to believe it, that her friend was still alive. On the other, if it meant serving the enemy rather than die…that didn't sound like the Joanna that Ibrik knew. Even if Joanna did, they'd have to have some pretty strong sway on her to force her into it.

"Apparently so, ma'am." Lynet confirmed, her voice as strenuous as Officer Giuseppe, "The lieutenant claims that the shot came from the opposing window, fourth from the left, third floor up. Brown roof."

Ibrik dashed to locate the window and when she did, she increased the resolution to get a clearer view. Rain fogged up her visuals, but Ibrik was still able to tell that there was something hiding behind the cracked glass of the window. Though there also seemed to be objects hiding behind every window, which was why neither Ibrik nor Officer Gisueppe had took note of this particular one before. It was a blurry shape, and in the darkness Ibrik could not make out the color. There was no sign of red anywhere, and the flapping curtains, ripped fabric that still hung on the side of the windows waved with the wind of the storm, obstructing the Zoid, if it was one, occasionally. The only thing conclusive that Ibrik could say for certain was that it was a small Zoid, an obvious indicator of it being a sniper Zoid. Still, she didn't jump to any conclusions and instead held her breath as she waited for an order from Officer Giuseppe.

"See it," Officer Giuseppe answered to Lynet, "Scylla, do you see it?"

"Yes ma'am," Ibrik answered, her throat abruptly feeling dry.

"Lynet, is it in your line of sight?" the officer asked, directing her next question to Lynet.

"No ma'am," Lynet replied, "I can't see anything from my place in the back alley. Would you like me to relocate?"

"No," Officer Giuseppe said before Lynet had even finished her sentence, "Remain in your current position. I will take the shot from here. I have a better chance than you and my range will lower the chances of me being tagged if this _is_ a decoy. Not to mention that this spire can serve as my cover."

Ibrik's eyes widened as she heard her officer. A fiercely gripping sensation of dread and agitation snared itself over Ibrik as she struggled to gain control of herself. Finally, smacking herself back to a state of rational thought, she reminded herself optimistically that at least the shot was not to be taken by Lynet, as in that case there was nothing she could do about it. Ibrik knew that inside that sniper Zoid, there was the chance that the pilot inside could be Joanna, not just another Republican soldier. She knew in her heart that it wasn't Kreep though; the sniper wouldn't pull off something as stupid as this. But she also knew that Officer Giuseppe wasn't stupid herself, and was only putting herself at risk to reveal Kreep's position, thereby enabling Lynet to fire at Kreep the moment that he fired at her.

Even if that was the case, even if there was a higher and far more important purpose than Ibrik's own personal terrors, Ibrik felt she could not stand by and do nothing. She recalled what Officer Giuseppe had told them before, to be ruthless in dealing with these decoys and not give Kreep the psychological advantage. To be distanced and not let your own feelings…that that makes you either human or Zoidian, that makes you living, makes you take control. But Ibrik could not do it – even if it was what Joanna would want her to do. There was just no way – no way. Ibrik grit her teeth in resolution.

"Scylla, call for fire. Range it."

With a jackhammer in her heart, Ibrik abided with her officer's order and magnified the distant image. The sniper variant of the Guysack that they were piloting had modifications made to its refractive lenses, granting them the ability for increased magnification and connecting them directly to a secondary screen mounted on Ibrik's dashboard. Ibrik kept her eyes on the screen which flickered ever so slightly from the magnetic interference and brought the spotting scope's grid-like reticule upwards to the window. The 2-d grid of the scope was a contrast to the mil-dot style of the sniper scope, designed in that manner to be able to confirm the range of targets and if they had been hit regardless of the level of magnification. The reticule locked onto the window without delay and immediately calculated the distance.

"516 yards. Stationary, elevation five." Ibrik reported. She had considered giving Officer Giuseppe the wrong information to throw off her shot, but decided against it, having formulated another plan to prevent the bullet from finding its mark. The deception that she was using, even against her own officer, made her feel somewhat wary of the risk she was taking, but she knew that her Sister, her _first _Sister, held more sentimental importance than Officer Giuseppe's shot.

"Doping the scope," Officer Giuseppe said and Ibrik could hear the audible clicks and taps of buttons as the gunnery officer adjusted the alignment of the rifle's gyroscopics to suit the target. Ibrik held her breath – her plan was all in timing and Ibrik would have to spring it at just the right moment to make it appear as though it was not her fault.

"Fire when ready." Ibrik said as she reached for the control joysticks of the Guysack. The word would come anytime soon, and Ibrik kept her grip on the joysticks tightly as she waited for it. There was a tense fraction of a second before she heard the word.

"Mark."

Just as Officer Giuseppe left the word at the tip of her tongue and pulled the trigger, Ibrik swiftly yanked the joysticks back as hard as she could, bringing the Guysack's entire torso upwards before crashing down again. Ibrik heard the deafening sound of the rifle being fired and hoped that her maneuver had kept the officer's aim off as the Guysack clattered down onto the roof once more, throwing up tiles of clay and dust into the air. The entire Zoid shook with the action, and Ibrik smiled in relief as she saw that the enemy Zoid seemed to be unaffected though where the bullet had hit was anyone's guess. She had done what she could – and Ibrik hoped that she had done the right thing.

"What the hell?" Officer Giuseppe roared over the line in an ear-splitting scream, "Scylla did you just move the-"

"No, no ma'am!" Ibrik cried out, immediately coming to her own defense, "I didn't do anything. One moment I was watching the window then next the Zoid just went up! It was insane, like it's got a mind of its own!"

"A Zoid can't just do that, Scylla! A Zoid can't just-"

"I don't know! I don't know, ma'am! It just happened so fast! Like, like it was berserk! I swear, it wasn't me! I would never do something like this, never purpose-"

"Damn it!" Officer Giuseppe cursed before she muttered to herself, "Can't rely on anyone else anymore….damn bastard…no point anymore…"

"Ma'am, I swear I did not-" Ibrik hastened to add.

"Save it."

Ibrik could sympathize with her commanding officer's anger as she fell back into her seat and quickly gripped the controls to bring the Guysack to a prone position to scuttle safely away from any sniper fire or enemy hail. Ibrik knew that Officer Giuseppe was probably getting suspicious now…with Ibrik's state of mind, with Ibrik's constant and seemingly 'bad luck.' Ibrik knew that it pissed the gunnery officer off to no end that another chance to kill Kreep had been taken from them. Now that the shot had been fired there was no choice but to pull back before someone else took note of them. Of course, Ibrik's choice went against every ethic of war that she stood for. Joanna might not have even done the same for her. But to Ibrik at least, the war did not mean a thing.

The sound of gunfire erupted as the rest of the Republican forces were alerted and made their way to cover their Snakes brethren. Further off in the north, searchlights cut through the night fog like a blade through butter as the Imperial Zoids dashed through the streets, tossing out hit-and-run tactics in guerilla-style squadrons. As a firefight began to unravel, with guns and grenades blazing in every direction and as Lynet and Sculino were called to retreat, Ibrik knew what was going to happen next. If they were retreating to avoid getting caught in a crossfire…chances were that Kreep was too. As if she had read Ibrik's mind, Officer Giuseppe suddenly ordered over the line,

"Scylla, follow after Kreep! He should be somewhere down there! Lynet, Sculino, trail after him on the ground!"

Mist wrapped itself around Ibrik's canopy in the cold rain and night and the momentary relief that she had felt earlier vanished just as quickly as it came. The worst was not over, not for the battle and not for Ibrik herself. Praying that her worst fears would not be fulfilled, Ibrik followed her CO's order to the letter this time, switching the gears and pressing her foot down on the accelerator pedals. She winced as a ping sounded as her metallic cast knocked onto the underside of the cockpit. The Guysack's engine revved up and Ibrik leaned the control joysticks forward to signal the Zoid to advance on the roof before pouncing off like a leopard and agilely landing on an opposing roof, the slanting steeple of an ancient granite edifice. Trails of rock smeared themselves on the Guysack and it took Ibrik some time to adjust the Zoid's calibration to prevent any more slips on the rain-smeared rooftops.

As she turned her attention away from her dials and instruments and relied solely on her own physical visuals, she spied the window those moments ago, Officer Giuseppe had targeted. There seemed to be no shape now, though with all the rain and explosions, Ibrik couldn't be for sure. If there was any certainty in the events that had unfolded, it was that the Zoid in the window was no more than a decoy, a pawn in the entire battle for Kreep to use to his satisfaction. Ibrik tore her eyes away to focus on the mission ahead, bringing the leaping Guysack down on another surface as it rocked with the impact.

"Any visual down there?" Officer Giuseppe asked over the commline.

"Yes ma'am," Ibrik heard Sculino shockingly report, "One unit fleeing down an alley, marked satellite coordinates as uh…eh…Sector Nana. Seemingly going away from the battle, hard to tell the color. Currently in pursuit…"

.

**0358 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

Joanna had already been 'ordered' to retreat from her position at the window when the sniper bullet was fired. Joanna had purposely put herself so far out on the edge of the window, hoping that she would've been spotted easily and killed quickly by one of her Sisters, hoping that they would assume that she had shot at the Godos bait, even if she hadn't. She had been spotted, but was not so easily killed. For some reason the bullet had misfired, hitting the window above her which split in with a loud crash just as Joanna brought the modified Gator back into the building's protected walls. Her role had been simple, to stand there and serve as a decoy while Kreep and another decoy shot the trap below and tagged as many units as they could. Joanna had smiled slyly when a small squadron checked out the decoy, not the entire platoon as Kreep had hoped. It had to be the work of a counter-sniper.

Her stomach grumbled as she brought the Gator to a quick-paced retreat. As a POW, her rations were meager if any and her sleep had been fitful to say the least. She did not get much R&R either, considered as an expendable, something that the voice in her ear continually reminded her. The soft voice had warned her that the Imperial forces and Republicans were about to crash together in one gigantic conflict so her presence was no longer needed. Kreep was likely retreating by now too, and once again another chance at killing Kreep was lost, it was as though the man had nine lives. Joanna herself had been holding out for too long now...she was hoping that a Republican would kill her but till now…there was no such luck. Joanna swore as she drove the Gator down a makeshift ramp from her floor down towards the ground, the Zoid's feet skidding against the gravel and igniting sparks with the friction.

A sinking feeling of desperation had clawed its way inside Joanna's heart. She knew that she was going to meet her end in the cockpit of a Gator and with all ties cut loose, Joanna also knew that she was ready to give her life to at the very least, stop Kreep from having just one more decoy. Joanna hated her cowardice, despised her fear but she would still rather die from bullets than the gas. She had seen the aftermath of the chemical weapon, the painful screams of her fellow Republican soldiers who had died from asphyxia. Joanna shuddered as they came to her mind and she quickly pushed them aside, focusing instead on her task of escaping the Republican onslaught.

"Follow the retreat path set out for you," the voice commanded, "Do otherwise and you know the consequences."

The voice in her ears irritated Joanna and she cursed the man and yearned to kill him. It would be much easier too, since they were using a Red Horn rather than traditional satellite systems, the magnetic storm did not so much affect the remote detonators as long as the Red Horn stayed in range. But common sense told her otherwise. Even if Joanna tried to flee, they'd probably detonate the charges before she could get out of the transmitting range. Then there was the problem with the locked cockpit, the Empire had thought of everything. As much as she resented the patronizing enemy, she resented herself even more for her 'willingness' to serve the enemy. She was literally doing the enemy's job, forced by them and her fear to serve in their operations, to serve in their Zoids. She was in a way, a soldier of the Zenebas Empire!

Disgust was the first emotion that Joanna felt at the image and she shuddered. Why was she like this? Could she not give in to a painful death to save perhaps one more Republican life? Joanna did not know the answers to those questions but her actions angered her. Somewhere in her mind there was that small miniscule piece of the brain that represented her survival instinct and prevented her from rebelling against the Empire. As necessary as it was, Joanna hated that fragment of her. _If you could see me now, Ibrik…the proud Republican serving the enemy…if you could see me now…_

The thought of Ibrik seeing her pilot for the enemy, the expressions of disappointment that Joanna pictured on Ibrik's face…Joanna blocked all thoughts from her mind. She had tried to keep herself in an emotionally calm state, to be prepared to face death and not ponder on whatever friends and family she still had left. But right now she could not help but wonder about Ibrik…and how her Sister was doing. Was she assigned with a new Sister now? A new battalion? Perhaps she had been killed in battle, though Joanna preferred to not go so deep into her fantasies. But still, it was that single thought of how Ibrik would react to her right now that made Joanna feel terrible…feel _monstrous_ inside.

"Republican!" the voice abruptly boomed, his voice reverberating in the cockpit of the Gator and tearing Joanna's thoughts apart, "You're off the retreat path!"

"I know, you douche."

"What was that?"

Joanna didn't answer. The Gator unsteadily turned into an alleyway where its shape was obscured by the darkness, bringing it back along the path. The Zoid had been heavily altered by Empire technicians, the communications technology within its large dorsal fin having been removed to make enough space to fit in a high-caliber sniper rifle. The conversion was simple and cost-effective, with a few changes here and there it could be done to any other Gator. Joanna would've turned on the searchlight mounted underneath the Zoid's jaw to draw attention to herself but the Empire's technicians had been careful to disable them. At any rate all Joanna could rely on was the defining color scheme of the decoy Zoid and pray that someone would painlessly kill her before she was tasked to kill more.

She did not have to wait long. Right on her six she could make out the ever-familiar hum of a Gusyack's small-caliber gatling guns that were mounted underneath the cockpit, its rounds firing directly at Joanna and adding even more rattling to the Zoid than the rain. Joanna prayed for a quick death, but her wishes were quickly diverted when the voice told her to quicken her advance. Joanna did as she was told, out of, as much as he hated to admit it, fear. They had finally broken her sheer will and her desire to fight was now gone. But still that survivor in her, the Zoidian tribal instinct, kept nagging her to die by the gun, not by poisonous gas vapors. Joanna slammed on the pedal and the Gator rushed forward as fast as it could, the water that gathered on the alley underneath it doing little to hamper its momentum.

"Go faster, you're hit! You're getting hit!"

Joanna ignored the voice, and closed her eyes as she felt the bullets slam into the Gator's fuselage, the tremors so strong that they could be felt even within her cushioned cockpit. She knew the statistics – the Guysack would be able to easily outrun the Gator, especially with the sniper rifle modification on the Gator. _Kill me._ Joanna shut her eyes even more tightly, as the voice continued yelling out orders with an impertinent insistence. _Kill me. Kill me. Kill me!_ Joanna waited for the inevitable but it didn't come. She opened her eyes.

"Stop." The voice ordered, "You just got saved, Republican."

Confusion clouded Joanna's thoughts as she turned her view to her right view-screen and saw that the Guysack was right next to her unit, having had caught up, but it was inactive and fire streamed from its cockpit, a sure shot. _From a sniper rifle_. She gazed upwards, the rain obscured everything in her line of sight and she could not see where the bullet had originated. She knew who pulled the trigger, though. Anger and rage began to boil inside her as she saw the flames stream and fuel drip down from the Guysack's frame. On it in bright colors was the 16th SSBN patch, a blue shield with a golden logo of a crosshair on it. Joanna clenched her fists tightly in sheer hatred as she looked at the distance at an uncertain enemy.

"Alright, move back to your position in the alley and rendezvous with us there. If anyone's tailing you; don't worry…we'll take care of them."

Joanna didn't. The Gator stayed spectrally still, the only constant in the entire town of Amal as gunfire and explosions broke out in every street and corner. She locked her eyes onto the farthest point from her view, where she predicted Kreep would be. Then, Joanna did as the man told her, but in a completely unexpected manner, swerving the Zoid so that it faced directly where the shot should've originated. Joanna pulled down the archaic one-eye scope aiming device of the Gator. The rifle was loaded, she knew that…often decoys were ordered to shoot as well. The man began to yell hysterically over the line but Joanna was blinded by her rage, and just as she slithered her grip onto the control joystick and prepared to pull the trigger, the voice in her head began to scream out,

"Joanna!"

Joanna's finger lifted slightly off the trigger in surprise as she heard her name ringing in her own ears. For a few tense seconds, both of them did not say anything until the man let out a sigh and continued between desperate pants, "Joanna. That's your name, right? It says right here…Sergeant Joanna Don of the 16th Sisters Sniper Battalion?"

"What's it to you?"

"Joanna…" the man said again, his voice slowly calming down, "Joanna, think rationally here, OK? Look, I don't like this anymore than you do – but I will press that button if you cut out of line. I don't want to do it Joanna…and I don't like having to either…but…but it's my job and I will do it."

When Joanna didn't respond, the voice suddenly became more disturbed, "Joanna. Joanna, look. Don't pull the trigger. If you do, I'll have to press this button. You think that you'll get Kreep? He just came by and saw you in trouble, he's probably gone by now. Kreep saved you."

"Why in hell would that matter? I'll kill him." Joanna snarled with a vengeance, "I'll kill Kreep." She began to reach for the trigger with her index now.

"Think! Damn it, you stupid Republican, think!" the man yelled, "You have got to _stop_ doing all these stupid things! It isn't going to get you anywhere! Do you have a death wish? Just…" the man's voice let out an impatient sigh before his voice quietly said in defeat, "Just…follow orders like everyone else, OK? Just…don't make it harder for both of us, don't make it harder than it already is…"

Joanna softened. She had never thought of that before, never considered another perspective outside of hers. Her thoughts slowly became more and more jumbled, colliding next to each other before Joanna's breathing calmed down and she began to cool off and focus. The voice seemed to sigh once more in relief and Joanna slowly loosened her grip on the joystick before retracting her whole arm back.

"He's….he's probably gone by now anyway-," Joanna said absent-mindedly as she pivoted the Gator back and set it back on its course.

"Just…" the man suddenly said, interrupting Joanna mid-sentence, "Just promise me that you won't do anything stupid? Just follow my orders, OK?"

Joanna thought about it for a moment as the Gator slinked out of the open road and back into another back alley. Perhaps this was the wiser way? Perhaps she should just play along and do as he says; maybe she can even get a lighter sentence later. But Joanna knew deep down that she was acting like a traitor, and she did not want to be remembered as such. She looked at the rear-view camera on her secondary screen at the burning Guysack, a single bullet which had hit the fuel tanks and set the whole Zoid on fire. The sight of her brothers and sisters slain by the enemy because of her cooperation pained her, more than any wound of war could. And then the thought occurred to her…what if one of these Zoids had Ibrik in it? If one Sister is already against Kreep, why wouldn't there be more? That simple scenario made shivers go down Joanna's spine as she began to realize the stakes.

Her or somebody else…somebody who could be Ibrik. Even if the chances were slim, in Joanna's mind, she imagined the next Guysack would have Ibrik in it and regardless of whom it actually was, Joanna did not want to take that risk. There was no question about it; she would die taking the bullet for her Sister rather than watch Ibrik die. As the epiphany sank in, a painful death did not seem as terrifying as it had been seconds ago, and she thanked the Moons again. Joanna thought of the promise she had made, that she would not die in vain.

_I won't. By the Moons, I swear. I will kill Kreep._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Excerpt from AAR B-117**

**Filed under 'OP Season'**

**Dated Sep 18****th****, ZAC 2033**

**Account as per Lt. Colonel Grant Wash (6****th**** ZABN)**

_The Empire was merciless in its advance to our eastern territory of Delpoi. Breaching of the second perimeter occurred at around 0230 hours at Amal and at 0245 hours at Yeil. Upon the successful infiltration, the assault was resumed and the multiple ZABNs split into individual squadrons to cover more ground and drive out the Imperial enemies. According to various reports, hit and run tactics and house-to-house fighting broke out on the streets of these towns. Amal was secured at 0750 hours while Yeil was subsequently secured at 0805 hours. The majority of Zenebas forces eventually retreated to their own territory at the shores of the Red River though mop-up operations are still proceeding; we have acquired 78 accounted POWs via their capitulation as well. As of the date this report is filed, the operation was successful, though not without losses. The 5__th__ Zoic Android Brigade Group, having had no additional reinforcements or air support, suffered many casualties along the way…_

_.  
_

**0415 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

"The line's been cut!" Claudia roared over the howling wind as the Guysack sped across the rooftops.

"I see fire, ma'am!" Scylla announced, "I think they've been shot! Kreep's here!"

Claudia swore in frustration. She knew there were countless reasons why there was a ringing explosion, why the line had cut et cetera. Perhaps the explosion was from the distance, or the connection dropped due to the range and magnetic disruption, Claudia could form countless scenarios to explain what had happened. Only thing was, she did not know which the_ right_ one was. If Lynet and Sculino were KIA, Claudia knew that she and Ibrik were on their own. There would be nothing to do with luck here, it was a pure contest of skill and will on the battlegrounds and Claudia was determined to beat Kreep in this regard. Her purpose and focus sorted out in her mind, Claudia turned silent as her cockpit rocked as Scylla made the Guysack leap.

The wind was harsh in Amal, and windmills situated on rooftops which provided electricity creaked and spun wildly as the rain came in a downpour from the sky, softening the gunfire with its loud crackling. Thunder and lightning resounded and flashed respectively and a gloomy blackness pervaded every corner of Amal, a town which had once been a prosperous port trade mecca, and now a conflict-riddled war zone. The fighting on the streets lit up the town, and Claudia watched in black amusement at the occasional flashes of muzzles, looking quite like the Christmas trees of old Earth winter solstice festivals, celebratory trees lit up with electrical lights. But Claudia knew this was no celebration – there was never anything good about war…but Claudia always felt like a hypocrite acknowledging this. To her, war and fighting was all she had and all she knew. It was how she was raised. If she did not have a gun to shoot, or a person to kill, she'd have no idea how her life might have turned out.

The world civil war back on Earth had encapsulated the planet to such an extent that worldwide famine and combat occurred on nearly every state and continent. By the time Claudia was eight; her parents had already taught her how to load, cock, and fire a weapon. Then she had been taught survival skills, how to survive on war-torn roads and how to kill somebody. How to trust no one except your blood and how to be ready to go far beyond the limits for your family. In the country that she had grown up in, where starvation and hunger was widespread, families stuck together and had to resort to murder and theft to keep them alive. Hostility constantly hung in the air amongst people not of the same blood, and some had even resorted to cannibalism just to fill their empty stomachs.

The logical, rational explanation for the start of the war had been lost years ago, but as far as Claudia knew it had something to do with a new order government attempting to establish global dominance and force its ideal of a one-world supranational state, free of ancient religious and ethical beliefs. As expected, opinions had clashed and as these verbal fights escalated to physical ones, armies mobilized and soon the purpose of fighting had gone to hell in the nuclear carnage that followed, decimating most of Claudia's home planet into ash and brimstone. It took several years before these 'governments' came to their senses and seeing the road that their planet was taking, had begun the 'Globally' project, a united attempt by all nations to save the human race by manufacturing seventeen interstellar space-ships to venture outside the known boundaries of the universe for planets capable of supporting human life-forms.

Claudia had been one of the few selected, as her then-boyfriend and future husband had important connections politically. Though her then-boyfriend could not purchase space onboard the ship for Claudia's family, they had insisted she went along…she had a better chance of surviving somewhere else than on Earth. The ship that she had been transferred to, the Globally 3, was largely made up of military men and women, though by that time nearly everyone in the planet would've been considered 'military.' When the ship had crash-landed on Zi in one of the most frightening moments of Claudia's life and landed on the village of Tal-Ahaddi, it had been the first step in a new war. A fight within the ship had broken out between the ship's staff and merchants onboard over some asinine and trivial matter, but one small event had triggered the crash of the Globally 3 and led to over sixty humans dying as a result. Their worries were not over though, as Republican and Zenebas forces had already been clashing for forty-years and the humans were left with a choice of sides.

An eighteen-year old with no more parents or relatives left to make the decision for her, Claudia chose to go with the Republic simply because their medical aids came faster to her and when the opportunity arose, she signed up for the Republican Army along with her future husband, another survivor of the crash. She was no stranger to fighting, and easily adapted to piloting Zoids, having been very familiar with all things mechanical from her days on Earth. Claudia and the other humans had escaped the war back home, only to find another war on another planet. It had been five years since she arrived on Zi…and she had gotten nowhere in that time. She was still fighting.

"Ma'am, what do we do now!" Scylla asked, interrupting Claudia's reminiscing.

Claudia took a moment to formulate a strategy. _If I was Kreep…and if reinforcements of the enemy were breaking in…I would pull back, let my friendly forces jump in the fray, and play a supporting role from a far distance. At least…that's what I would do._ She knew if Kreep was half the intelligent sniper they all claimed him to be, he would not be stupid enough to engage in actual conflict but remain far from the enemy. Distance was a sniper's best friend. That and the 70-mm round too.

"Drop down to the road! Chase after the decoy!"

"Yes ma'am!" Scylla said with gusto as she executed the drop from the building to the alleys below.

Rappelling up and down buildings was one of the most basic maneuvers for sniper Zoids and Claudia found herself admiring her spotter's graceful landing as the Guysack hooked a clamp on its underbelly on the side of a building and zipped itself down before dislodging and reeling the clamp back in one lightning-fast display of talented Zoid piloting. The execution was so smooth that Claudia was positive that it would qualify as a training video. Whatever doubts she had of Scylla's ability to pilot under stress in the mission was gone…aside from that slight 'mishap' with her first shot. She had thought that the post-stress symptoms were bearing down too much on Scylla but at least that worry had been elevated. Claudia had no idea how Scylla snapped herself back to the real world but whatever it took, Claudia didn't care either. As long as it worked, it was fine with her.

The puddles on the street splashed softly as the Guysack landed and soon enough Scylla kicked the Zoid into full gear as it scuttled into an alleyway, the blackness shielding it. Claudia shuddered as the shadows cast by the moonlight wrapped around them. For once, she actually sort of regretted not mounting a searchlight on the Zoid for fear of being noticed. Despite her firm stance in secular humanism and rejection of all unexplainable phenomena, she could not help but feel a somewhat, for lack of a better word, _supernatural _feel to the entire alleyways. These interconnected alleys of entries and exits had once been home to Amal's famous markets and trading locations and had been the agora of the town before the Zenebas Empire infiltrated the Khamer River. Before the war began.

Claudia produced a map of the town of Amal from her pocket. As satellite systems were down, they had to rely on old-fashioned cartography and navigation. Claudia also proceeded to pull out a paracompass (altered compass for usage in Zi's unstable magnetic field) and a magnifying glass. Though the Guysack's movement across the many twisting alleys made Claudia's job of reading the map difficult, she still managed to pinpoint their location on the map using her magnifying glass. Then, with the shaking paracompass, Claudia was able to determine the location of Lynet and Sculino, and located another junction that would lead them to where she believed the decoy would emerge, and then out on the open road. Of course, she had no idea if it _was _a decoy, or if someone else had shot Lynet and Sculino's Guysack, but she didn't want to ponder on it either. Decoy or not, she was going to shoot it.

"Keep heading north, check your paracompass!" Claudia said over the line to Scylla, "Then on the second junction, turn left! You'll emerge on a lane!"

Scylla complied, boosting the Zoid forward before swerving to the left, leading them to yet another alleyway which broke out to a lane. Despite the Guysack's delicate armature, its light armor worked in their favor, as the lack of encumbrance made the Zoid a nimble machine. Claudia had no idea how Scylla was still able to pilot so sharply after so many hours and with the rain and darkness but asked no questions. Right now wasn't the time or the place. The Guysack emerged out of the turn and into the lane and on their right, Claudia could make out the fleeing Zenebas Zoid, at this range clearly seen to be painted an obnoxious red. Before Claudia could even verbally pronounce a command out, Scylla had already sprung into action, rotating the Zoid to face the lane before dashing after it.

"Have a visual!" Scylla cried out, stating the obvious.

"Go faster!" Claudia said, prompting Scylla to increase the Guysack's acceleration. The faint moonlight at the end of the road was already visible and the decoy was slowly closing the gap between it and the exit to the main road beyond, where little street lamps swung with the wind, providing little illumination to this section of the town. As the Guysack closed in on the enemy Zoid, now identifiable as a modified Gator, the decoy suddenly dashed forward and emerged from the alleyways and onto the main street. The sudden motion happened too quick for Claudia to judge what would happen next and before she could do anything, their Guysack had emerged from the alley as well, right behind the Gator and a bullet was fired.

_CRACK! _The sonic boom was deafening as it hit the Guysack straight in its torso. Claudia looked down in open-mouthed horror as the bullet struck home, smashing through the Guysack's spine and tearing apart the engine. Flames and shards of glass spewed from the wound and Claudia felt the entire cockpit shaking with the force, the Zoid's tail joint being slowly disconnected from the primary torso, wires and sparks and all. With a blithe, almost surreal descent, the Guysack's tail, along with the sniper rifle and Claudia's cockpit which was mounted on it, fell down onto the rainy pavement. Claudia watched in fright as the canopy above her first turned from a view of the Guysack's torso to the raining sky as the tail disconnected from the Zoid and the subsequent plunge shook her from consciousness. Blackness seeped into her shutting eyelids as her mind slowly faded away.

.

.

Claudia opened her eyes. There was a loud ringing. A banging. Of a fist coming into contact with something else. As her eyes slowly cleared she could see the source of the noise that had arisen her from her slumber. Outside of her cracked canopy was Scylla, who stood over it, banging the glass in an attempt to wake Claudia up and motion her to open the cockpit. Her cries sounded muffled under the glass of the canopy. Drowsiness and nausea seeped into Claudia's senses as she made out Scylla's face between the spider-web cracks of the glass and struggled to regain her focus. Even in her current state, her mind was paper-sharp, and the events that had led to her right now immediately fell back into place. The first sensation Claudia could clearly make out was the pain on her head.

Gently, Claudia touched her forehead. She winced as her fingers touched a bloody cut, possibly caused by the force of the fall. Blood streamed down her forehead, covering half of her entire face in crimson hemoglobin. Looking down, she could see her ripped pilot suit, covered with soot from the burns caused by her instruments sparking out on her. With a fumbling motion, Claudia disconnected the safety harness which had saved her life and yanked to lever to open the cockpit, allowing the rain above to fall upon her and soak the cockpit and its devices around her as well.

"Ma'am!" Scylla cried, her voice no longer muffled by the canopy, "Ma'am are you alright?"

Claudia could only manage a grunt as she pulled out the neck-brace from her collar, which had snapped during the descent, cushioning her spine from a possibly fatal injury. She tested her hands and feet, standard part of a perfunctory post-injury examination. Her muscles felt sore and wounded, but surprisingly she had not suffered any major damage to her body aside from her few bruises and cuts. All she felt was an ungodly wrath at missing another chance at killing Kreep and Kreep outsmarting her once more. What was not as surprising though, was Scylla's lack of bodily harm, as from her relatively stable cockpit, she could just as easily have clambered out of it.

The rain poured itself onto Claudia's auburn hair and she groaned as Scylla dragged her out of the charred cockpit. As she hoisted herself out onto the grimy pavement she could spy the entire Guysack's tail torn out of the Zoid's body. Luckily enough, the bullet had caused the tail to drop back into the alleyway, and so they were safe from the enemy from now. Still though, the damage was severe as the sniper rifle had broken into pieces and loose tubes sparked flames that the rain failed to dowse from every direction. Far ahead she saw the Guysack's main body on the main and open street, still writhing with billowing fire, a clear indication that its fuel tank had ruptured and had reacted with the fire to cause a final, stunning explosion.

"Ma'am!" Scylla said once more, gripping Claudia by the cheeks to face her before bringing up some fingers with her free hand, "How many fingers do you see?"

"I think we can skip the mental faculty tests, alright?" Claudia said, still irritated and discomposed from her alarming ordeal, "I'm pretty sure I'm fine."

"How many fingers, ma'am?" Scylla stubbornly asked once more. Claudia sighed and gave up.

"Three." Claudia replied, too tired to argue anymore, "I see three fingers, Sergeant." She pulled off the pilot balaclava which exposed only her face and had manganese guard plates situated on her jaw and the base of her skull.

"OK, ma'am…you seem fine." Scylla said in satisfaction, "Even if it looks like you've lost quite some blood."

"I _feel_ fine, if a little scuffed up," Claudia replied as she struggled to her feet. Her legs felt a little shaky in the beginning, but after so many numb hours in the cockpit, they finally adjusted to being on flat land again. Her fingers touched her forehead again and Claudia winced when they came into contact with her bloodied wound, "I've definitely had better days before. Maybe there is some merit to your 'berserker' theory."

"Seems I jinx all my Zoids," Scylla muttered sarcastically.

Claudia ignored the attempt to lighten the atmosphere and brought her gaze over to the remains of the Guysack's tail. Her brain sparked a muse as she saw it. The tail had curled up like a millipede, the metal caving in with the sheer heat of the decapitation. But even with all the destruction wreaked on it, Claudia was certain at least some of it would still be preserved. At least the 'some' that she needed. Claudia limped her way over to the sniper cockpit, which still remained open and bent inside. Scylla followed behind in curiosity as Claudia reached underneath the console of the cockpit with one hand, searching for the slot where the Zoid's remote beacon system would be. _Chances are, this probably won't work with the magnetic interference…_ Claudia warned herself, _but it's worth a shot_.

"Officer, we should probably tend to your head…"

"I'm fine," Claudia said as she wiped the blood on her face with the end of her sleeve. The rain had made the blood lose its thickness, and it had turned into water-like splotches all over her skin. With a heave, she pulled out multiple wires from the slot underneath and placed several in her teeth while she worked on the few, attempting to bypass the ignition interlock of the onboard computer, essentially hot-wiring the Zoid. Another skill she had picked up from her grandfather when they had to jump-start abandoned vehicles to journey long distances. As Claudia connected two wires to complete a circuit, the Zoid's computer's OS immediately booted up in safe mode. Her fingers bloodied the keys of the console as she brought them down to type on it but she ignored the smears, opening up a short-wave connection to the maximum radius that the Zoid's remote beacon could transmit to.

"Ma'am? What are you doing?" Scylla said as she watched Claudia tapping the keyboard.

"Activating the SOS beacon," Claudia answered in a matter-of-fact manner with a few wires still in her teeth, "We won't be able to make it far on foot, even if we're in this alley. Where's the decoy?"

"Across; other alley."

"Sniper's location, where did it seem to be from?" Claudia answered, her eyes focused on the secondary screen. Her words came out disjointedly as she opened a console on the Zoid's onboard computer.

"Can't tell, left of here, west most likely." Ibrik replied before asking, "Ma'am, if someone comes to save us, won't they get killed by Kreep?"

"Hopefully not. We need to tell our people that Kreep is here – that's the first priority. We've got to do it before Kreep gets away again, gets another chance. We have to, even if there might be some casualties along the way."

Claudia made a soft drone which sounded like a murmur of acknowledgement as she typed out the command sequence for the beacon to activate a SOS signal. The console beeped several times as Claudia tapped a series of commands, her fingers making a loud clamor on the board. She had to blink every now and then to clear out the rain that obscured her sight and was mildly aware of Scylla watching over her as she did her work. Just as Claudia was about to insert the command to activate the sequence, Scylla finally asked,

"Ma'am, will this work?"

Claudia took out the final remaining wire that dangled from her teeth as she hit the _ENTER _key, "Guess we'll find out."

.

**0432 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

The moment Colonel Amadeus received the distress beacon, he ordered seven of his soldiers to accompany with him and mobilize themselves to locate the source of the beacon. The thought that it could be a trap had not even occurred to him at all and his fellow troops had been quickly assembled before they made their way towards the source of the beacon. Amadeus had not even considered assigning some 16th SSBN soldiers for support. The signal was faint, barely noticeable until Nomad had picked it up on their frequencies and Amadeus was not willing to let even one soldier, no matter how inconsequential, die from this battle because none of his brothers and sisters in arms would come to their aid. In his heart Amadeus knew that he would want someone to do the same for him, should it ever happen.

All the members of his impromptu 'rescue team' were remnants of Flengéle's battalion, which had been decimated in the first attack, leaving the unit largely disparate. Amadeus had assigned under his command three Snakes units, two Godos unit, a single low-altitude flying Double Sworder (still capable of partial flight due to its lack of Magnesser Flight technology that units like the Pteras or Salamander had), as well as a combat medic Gustav in the event that the pilots who had triggered the distress signal were trapped within their cockpit. The Zoids were patrolling in a standard squadron formation, with the twin Godos units taking point whilst Amadeus supported them from the back, covering the medic Gustav in the center of the formation which was flanked on its sides and back by the three Snakes units. High above, 2nd Lieutenant Font and Lieutenant Kollu's Double Sworder took on the position of overwatch and scout for the entire squadron, completing their formation.

Amadeus knew that time was of the essence as the signal was sporadically appearing and fading and so detached from the larger assault element to head towards the winding alleyways of Amal, grim determination set all over his face to locate those who might need his help. Right now they had already entered those forbidding alleys, and as the darkness enveloped around them, Amadeus began to key in on the beacon.

"Hurry up, boys and girls!" Amadeus roared over the open short-wave channel before passing an individual order to the pilot of the Double Sworder, "Font and Kollu, I want you two elevated slightly above us, high but not pass the treeline, I don't want you being spotted!"

"I don't think I could even if I wanted to, sir!" 2nd Lieutenant Coker Font, one of the few airmen who had transitioned from flying in the Air Force to the army, though he still flew the low-altitude Double Sworder he was in right now, yelled over the rain, "Weather's so bad, I can barely keep my Sworder steady!"

"You two alright up there?" Nomad asked from his place on the Mammoth's Panova guns. Amadeus gazed upwards for a brief second as well, and saw the turbulent Sworder unit rocking with the gale-like force of the winds, struggling to keep itself leveled.

"Yeah, we're good…" Font replied between gritted teeth.

"You sure?" Amadeus asked in reaffirmation.

"Yessir."

"Good, because I want you to recon ahead. Coordinates for the source of the beacon are Sector Nana, 168 by 172. Scout ahead, but not too close as there are bound to be Zenebas forces. Report back once you have a visual on the friendly Zoid. Six minutes, get in, get out. I want you to take the alleys, I know it's out on the main road but I don't want to risk you being noticed if you fly over this maze and head straight for it."

"Again, sir, I couldn't if I wanted to," Font repeated, pausing briefly before resuming his answer, "Coordinates received via short-wave, sir. Dispatching. Font and Kollu, out."

As the 2nd Lieutenant brought his Double Sworder to a shaky ascent towards the roof-level of the alleys and flew straight ahead into the darkness, the only visible parts of it being the blinking landing lights on its legs, Amadeus brought his attention down onto his communications monitor. In several seconds, as the Sworder left the vicinity of the short-wave channel, Kent's beacon serial immediately dropped off Amadeus' manifest, leaving only Amadeus himself and the other six units present. Nothing but the pitter-patter of the rain, the hail of the winds, and the crackle of thunder and lightning pervaded Amadeus' ears, as every other member of the squadron sat in their stationary Zoids, silence filling up the channel. Amadeus even had to rub his eyes several times to keep himself awake when thankfully enough; Nomad's voice broke into the line.

"Sir?" Nomad asked as Amadeus instantly perked up, "About those….marksmen and women of the Empire…" Red made a rude noise over the intercom but Nomad ignored her and continued, "...well, there've been reports about…you know, large clusters of sectors in Amal where troops were being hit by…fire that could not be determined. I'm browsing the Republican network now and in many instances we have troops hiding behind cover for fear of some…unknown presence."

"I'm sure it's nothing much, Nomad," Amadeus patiently said with a sigh, "The official intel position is that the Empire _has no _snipers on their side. They may have _some_, but none are deployed in this operation as far as we know. Even if there are, what do we have to worry about, Nomad? We've got a whole battalion of 'em."

"Guess you're right sir…still though…the thought of a single unit being able to inflict so much fear on Zoids twice their size…frightens me. Just imagine, one Zoid can kill so many, just because it's hidden."

"Nothing a bigger gun can't solve." Red interjected, her tolerance for Nomad's fears clearly withering, "Sniper _this_, sniper _that_. They ain't nothing but cowards with no balls, Nomad. Nothing but Zoidians. They can bleed, and they can die. It's all in your head."

"Red's right," Amadeus expanded, "Don't let it get to you. I mean, assuming if there _were _snipers. They're nothing but soldiers. Just like us."

Nomad didn't reply and Amadeus decided to just leave it at that. He didn't want to go further on about the topic of snipers; it simply brought worries into his mind. There had been an _executive _order to eliminate Kreep and Amadeus simply had no time to moon over it in the heat of battle. He had to stay focused, not get side-tracked, and hope that the 16th SSBN could do their job. Right now he had more important things to be concerned with, like Operation Season and rescuing the pilot who must have activated the beacon. As Amadeus re-focused himself, his attention was brought back to the beacon as his eyes made their way over to the watch strapped on his wrist. Amadeus felt his blood turn cold.

"Uh…Nomad…" Amadeus began softly, "Has it been six minutes?"

A brief pause. Then, "Eight, actually sir."

Amadeus checked his watch one more time. Then he looked at the manifest on his communication screen. Font and Kollu's serial wasn't logged in. Which meant that he still had not returned. Was there a delay perhaps…had he been caught in some crossfire? Or perhaps he had…no, Amadeus shook his head to keep the negative thoughts out of his brain. There was no time for wondering how 'things could have gone.' Instantly, he remembered that he was supposed to be the leader of this brigade, and it was time he acted like one. With a call, he assembled the remaining six members of his squad,

"This is Colonel Amadeus to all personnel! Mount up!"

"Beacon's signal's getting stronger," Nomad informed all the members of the squad over the open short-wave channel, "We're nearing it…we need to get off this exit first and cross one of the larger roads to get into another sector of the alley."

"There! Over there, sir!" one of the soldiers who piloted the Godos' cried out, "The alley, two steps from the one before us! I see a…it's a Guysack!"

"We found it!" the medic pilot within the Gustav, Clerence Zakk, exalted.

Amadeus kept silent. He had barely spoken a word during their lengthy journey through another intricate web of pathways, not even when they had come across the burning carcass of Font and Kollu's crashed Sworder on one of the alleys they came across, fire streaming from a single wound. In any case, he did not want to. As they slowly approached the exit to the main road which would lead them further along to the beacon, a sense of tension seized him. It had occurred to him as he saw the crashed Double Sworder that Font and Kollu must have had come across something during his recon mission. Something that chances were, Amadeus and his squadron would too. And the Guysack corpse…how was it destroyed? It appeared to be a 16th SSBN unit, something Amadeus guessed had to do with Kreep. He took a deep breath as he stepped on the Mammoth's accelerator pedal a little more, prodding the Zoid to a steady rhythmic canter out onto the open road. Before him, the two Godos units had already advanced to the street, armed to the teeth with their twin small-bore particle cannons.

Those would not help the pair of Tyrannosaurus-type Zoids as they stepped into the open, the moonlight reflecting off their grey armor. In a split instant, two bullets soared from the eastern end and dropped the Godos', shots that struck their heads in an almost beautiful direct hit, shattering their orange canopies. The first sniper shots Amadeus had ever experienced in the flesh, he could only watch, stunned as the bullets toppled the two Zoids with their sheer velocity, making the grey Godos units stumble before crashing to the ground with a banging clatter. Shards of armor flew everywhere and Amadeus heard Nomad let out an effeminate yelp over the intercom as Amadeus recovered from the shock and instinctively screamed a retreat order into his headset's microphone,

"Fall back! Back into the alley! Back!" he screamed into the line. The medic Gustav's wheels immediately whirred into action, reversing the insect Zoid back into the darkness as the Snakes units slithered along it. Amadeus himself shifted the Mammoth into reverse gear and made the Zoid back-track. No further shots came from the right distance, where Amadeus predicted that the sniper…that Kreep would be. He didn't know for sure if they _were _shots of a sniper, but there didn't seem to be any other explanation. Nomad seemed to think so too.

"Damn it!" Nomad yelled, his voice standing out amongst the low and panicked whispering between every Zoid pilot on the channel, all reeling from the aftershock, "What did I tell you? What did I…?"

Red did not have a reply to Nomad's yelling inquiry but Amadeus immediately silenced the scattering chitter-chatter over the intercom with a, "Quiet! Damn it, be quiet! Everyone, calm down!"

As the panicked whispers subsided, Amadeus calmly adjusted his tone and told each one of his squadron's members, "Calm down...zalright? We need to assess this first before going into overdrive and jumping to conclusions."

"It was one of them, one of them snipers!" Nomad interrupted.

"Maybe. Maybe it was a sniper, but we still don't know that Nomad, so calm the hell down!" Amadeus scolded his subordinate, who spoke no further throughout the remainder of the entire conversation, "Moons in heavens….alright, look this is what we have to do. We know there's enemy fire from the right end of that road out there…and the beacon is just over this road…"

"Excuse me, sir…" Red abruptly voiced, "But I don't think we should…uh, you know….go for this, I mean…I don't think its wise sir. Not that I wouldn't do it for a fellow soldier but…but I don't quite feel comfortable risking all our lives for one…for _one_ soldier."

"'Scuse me?" Amadeus said incredulously.

"Sir…we've already lost one, now three…" Red said in an exasperated voice, "For all we know this might not even _be _a soldier in need. For all we know this could be a trap!"

"What about the beacon? And how would you know that?"

"I..I don't, I'm just saying that…maybe…"

"Look, Red. If you're pussying out, then fine. OK?" Amadeus said irritably, "If you're not brave enough to help a fellow comrade then get the hell out of that cockpit. You don't deserve to wear that uniform."

"Well, what about you then, you fat snob?" Red shouted back in defiance, the stress of battle invoking a new personality within her, "Sitting on your overweight ass on your desk all day! Making us all die with your stupid, screwed-up plans? What makes you better than me, huh? What makes you deserving to wear that uniform, you senile little-"

"Get out of this Zoid."

The raspy and stern voice of Amadeus shut Red up. The channel had already been awkwardly silent since Red back-talked him, but now it seemed to take on an uncomfortably dark atmosphere to the already dark enough battle. For awhile there was no response and Amadeus kept quiet, apathetically distanced until he heard Red throw down her headphones over the intercom and the silenced hiss of her cockpit as she left from her place on the tail of the colossal Mammoth. Still Amadeus did not react at all. _I know I've done the right thing…but I've lost the trust of another. And the lives of many._ He turned down to his left when he spotted Red's figure running towards him in his cockpit. Amadeus kept his jaw set as Red flicked a vulgar hand gesture in his way. Even if he was past his prime, he knew what it meant. Amadeus turned away.

"If anyone of you wants to leave like that caitiff over there, feel free."

No one said a word. Amadeus took a moment to see if anyone changed their mind before he spoke again, "Here's what we'll do. I want Ri'ik and Embalo with your Snakes to be on me when I charge for the open and fire to the right. Nomad, be ready with that Panova to aim high in the distance. We'll lay the suppressing fire on this…on these Zenebas forces with our guns, form a firing line. While we're doing this, Sha-Char, you support Zakk in his Gustav. Once we start firing, I want you two to sprint across as fast as you can and get to that Guysack. Save the pilots, and then get your asses back into the alley while we cover you. Everyone clear with what you have to do?"

After everyone mumbled 'yessirs,' Amadeus prepared to give the go code, "On my mark." For a split second, he pondered over Red's words. Maybe, just maybe it wasn't worth it after all? _No, _Amadeus told himself in resolution, _there's always a way. I've never given up on any…and I'm not going to give up now._ Gripping the control joysticks of the Mammoth tightly, Amadeus finally gave the word.

"Go."

With a quick slam of the pedal the Mammoth surged forward out onto the open street. Amadeus felt the water beneath him splash into the air as the rain stained his cockpit. From behind he could hear Nomad twist the Mammoth's Panova guns, mounted on the end of its spinal cord, letting the anti-air guns loose at their right side. Amadeus twisted the entire Mammoth's fuselage towards the right as well, extending the Mammoth's elongated nose and squeezing the trigger to fire the 50mm linear beam gun mounted on its tip. Amadeus knew, as he watched Nomad's anti-air guns' projectiles lit up the fog, that most of his bullets would not reach their destination but continued to fire, smashing cartridges into the unknown distance with a relentless fury. He was aware of the shell count, at most they could only maintain up to five minutes of continuous fire, and that was without considering the guns overheating. From his side, he spotted Ri'ik and Embalo diving into battle with their Snakes, taking the sides of Amadeus' Mammoth to form a single fire 'barrier' for the medic Gustav and its escort.

The Snakes curled upwards like cobras, firing off their 40mm machine-guns that were mounted on their 'cheeks,' their entire bodies rocking slightly with the force of the weapons. Behind his Mammoth he could hear Zakk's Gustav dash onwards, using them as cover as his Zoid dragged along a trailer that bumped against the stony gravel every now and then. As soon as Amadeus was sure that both Zakk and Sha-Char had crossed safely, Amadeus ordered all of his men to lower their rate of fire for the time being, and to switch their weapons to semi-automatic settings. There was always the option of taking cover until Zakk and Sha-Char returned, but Amadeus did not want Kreep…or whatever this sniper was, to have that span of time to pull any other tricks that he or she might have up his sleeve.

Unconsciously, Amadeus was aware that this seemed to suit the tactic that Kreep had adopted.

.

**0517 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

The rain was already beginning to thin out. Joanna could already see the light of dawn breaking in between the dark shades of blue that smeared most of the sky. _The calm after the storm, _Joanna thought, misquoting the human idiom, _or is it the calm before the storm? _Joanna found herself strangely wondering over something so unnecessary and trivial in the midst of battle and yet…there seemed to be some sort of relation to her right now. There was a storm brewing right now and Joanna knew that it would rain down on her fellow Republicans any time soon as she overhead the voice in her cockpit whisper over to someone else in his Red Horn unit.

"Yeah, Kreep's under heavy enemy fire, he's pinned down. Just outside this road…yeah, mobilize a squad; we'll move ourselves too to keep them down." Then, the man's voice became slightly louder as he turned his attention to Joanna, "Republican, bring your Gator along with us, we've got a shortage of peoplepower."

Joanna hesitated momentarily then complied. She had led another fellow Republican to her death. She had no idea that a second Guysack was tailing her, and now because of her own unwillingness to give up her life for the greater good, that Zoid was dead – shot by the almighty Kreep. A sickening hatred burned inside Joanna whenever she heard that name, how many had died because of that Imperial bastard? Not only those that he shot, but also those used as decoys. Republican Zoid pilots, people just like her had been intimidated into serving in decoy Zoids and many had already been killed over the course of the past five hours. Not to mention that they were pressing these decoys into their depleted ranks as it seemed clear that the Zenebas Empire forces were fighting a losing battle. It was the only thing Joanna could find solace in as she tailed the massive communications-configured Red Horn.

Joanna had considered shooting the Zoid behind its back various times but she knew that even if she did get a lucky shot, the Red Horn itself would pulverize her miniscule Gator. The Zoid loomed over the Gator she was in, nearly six feet taller and far more bulky. It had been painted a drab grey, somewhat ironically name-wise, to blend in with the town and with the exception of the AZ tri-barreled linear cannon mounted on its back, most of the Zoid's weapons had been stripped down in favor of communications technology. Wires and transmitting devices laced the Red Horn's fuselage and several antennas stemmed out, waggling with the wind. The anti-infantry gun traditionally located on its tail had been replaced with a com-link satellite, useless in the magnetic storm and manning the linear cannon and its various network capacities were several Zenebas soldiers located on an expanded cockpit on the Zoid's back. Only the pilot's place was relatively unchanged and Joanna watched in suppressed awe as the gigantic Zoid stepped into the light, confronting the line of three Republican Zoids who were pouring suppressing fire onto Kreep.

The Republican bullets bounced off the Red Horn as it departed from its safe hiding place and four Iguans had taken point. These Iguan units had been quickly taken care of by the Republican Zoids, who were well-prepared for them, but by the time the Red Horn stepped into view, the fire seemed to lack a little. Joanna could only imagine the sensation of shock and pure fear inside those Republican soldiers' hearts as the Red Horn readied its weapons. Truly, the Zoid was the pinnacle of Zenebas achievement, the symbolic icon of the Empire that everyone recognized over any other Imperial Zoid, even the Iron Kong. Joanna flinched as the Red Horn fired the sulfuric acid cannon mounted under its jaw, spewing green venom onto the armor of the Republican firing line. One of the units, which Joanna recognized as a Snakes, took the brunt of the hit, its metal sizzling with bubbles as the armor stripped off the Zoid's skeletal form.

Instantly the Republican Zoids had fallen back, led by a Mammoth unit which seemed to take charge of the situation. They retreated rapidly as the Red Horn began to sway its crested head from side to side, creating a sweep of acidic fluids which tore apart anything it came into contact with. Joanna wanted to use her Gator Zoid, to charge at the Red Horn and destroy it but that part of her denied it. She gripped the consoles tightly as she witnessed Kreep, now free from suppressing fire, firing off another round towards a Snakes unit, whose canopy cracked with the impact before falling down on the road, limp. Then a second round left Kreep's barrel and destroyed the acid-affected Snakes, slashing through its corroding armor and making the Zoid belch streams of smoke before crashing down next to the other Snakes.

"Hah!" Joanna heard someone over the line in the Red Horn cheer. Anger sparked inside her. But still…there was nothing she could do about it.

"Alright, leave the last one for Kreep." The voice that had forced her to be a decoy for so long commanded.

Just as Joanna feared that Kreep's next hit would be the lone Mammoth, fighting valiantly and in vain, the tables turned as the Republican Zoid charged straight towards the Red Horn, using its heat crasher tusks to impale itself right onto the Red Horn's skull. Metal caved with a sickening crack as the Mammoth rammed the Imperial Zoid, pushing the Red Horn back as the Mammoth's nose went limp at the crazy charge. Joanna noticed the hesitation in Kreep's fire, as it would be near impossible to risk a shot at the Mammoth should it hit the Red Horn instead. If the Red Horn went down, all the decoys would be home-free. Joanna watched wordlessly, silently praying for the Mammoth's pilots as it wrestled with the Red Horn, twisting and turning, locked in eternal combat. The Mammoth's gunner began to fire its Panova guns at near point-blank range, the rounds ricocheting off the Red Horn's thick hide as sparks flew everywhere. Joanna almost could not hear the voice's calling over all the chaos.

"Republican!" the voice yelled in panic, "Shoot the Mammoth! Shoot it now!"

Joanna froze. She watched; expressionless as the Mammoth and Red Horn tussled together, the Mammoth's Panova guns chipping blocks of armor off the Red Horn's linear cannon (which would be suicidal to use at this range) while the Red Horn struggled to use its superior hydraulics to toss the Mammoth aside and dislodge its tusks from the Horn's own armor. The voice continued to scream at her for help as Joanna blocked him out and screamed on her own inside her head. _Please kill him…please kill him…_ Joanna repeated it like a mantra, hoping that the Mammoth would overcome the far larger Red Horn.

But she knew she was only waiting for the inevitable, the chances of the Mammoth's survival were near nil now. She could not rely on it alone. If she wanted to get results…she would have to do it now, do it herself. She would have to shoot now, to pay for all whom she had led to death, and to save all the Republican decoys for all those she killed. Perhaps even; for Ibrik…who could be out there - somewhere. Joanna knew she had to.

_One shot, one kill_, Joanna told herself as she pressed a switch to load a fresh round into the Gator's rifle. She pulled down the rifle scope and repeated in her mind once more, _one shot, one kill. _Joanna let out a breath as she calmly slid her hand over the handle.

"Aim!" the voice said, his voice rising in a crescendo, "Don't hit us, and just hit the Republican Zoid! Or I'll push the button! I swear, I'll-"

Joanna pulled the trigger.

.

**0548 hours, Sep 11****th**

_**Amal**_**, Zenebas Empire Territory**

"Was that a gunshot?" Lieutenant Zakk asked from inside his medic-configuration Gustav's cockpit, his voice barely audible to Ibrik, who was standing outside, desant-style on the side of the Gustav's head, with Officer Giuseppe on the other side.

"Sounded a little too loud!" Ibrik yelled over the rain so Zakk could hear her through the canopy's glass.

"I think it was two shots?" Officer Giuseppe said uncertainly under her breath.

"Two?" Zakk said in confusion as he brought the Gustav back towards the main road, Sha-Char's Snakes taking point. Rain streamed down Ibrik and she felt as though she was catching a fever as she struggled to keep the body warmth under the freezing precipitation. The box of stimulants had burned along with the Guysack corpse and Ibrik's energy was beginning to wear thin. Even her tentative place on the Gustav's head was already getting slippery and she had to bat her eyes every now and then just so she could see clearly. But right now Ibrik would not even have to blink just to be able to see the carnage that surrounded the main street as they stepped into view.

The bodies of Zoids both Republican and Imperial littered the streets. Fire surged from each of these corpses and their redolent black fumes clouded the light that was beginning to creep from behind the clouds. As the rain lightened to a drizzle, Ibrik watched, open-mouthed at the entire stretch of road. Loose shrapnel and fragments of armor were charred and burnt, sticking out of the roads and impaling the many walls that surrounded the street. Broken tubes, fuel, and bodily fluids coated the pavement and Zakk's Gustav even had to struggle to maintain its gyroscopics several times when it ran over spent shell casings. The smell of brimstone and corrosion filled the air and there was an eerie silence that crept over the aftermath of such a destructive encounter. Ibrik felt a knot in her stomach as she realized if this was the result of somebody's attempt to save her and her commanding officer.

She stole a look at Officer Giuseppe, who stood adjacent to her on the other side of the Gustav's flat head. The officer looked ashen, as worn out as Ibrik herself was but Ibrik could tell she was trying to conceal it. Dirt had smeared her officer's face and there were bruises and cuts everywhere as well. Blood stained the improvised bandage (a piece off Ibrik's shirt) that was wrapped around her head. As Zakk brought the Gustav to a stop, Officer Giuseppe dismounted from the Zoid and proceeded to walk onwards on foot to survey the destruction. Ibrik tailed after her, unsure of what else to do and how to act. To her, this was happening way too fast and was far too overwhelming for her to correlate at the same time. Behind Ibrik, Zakk and Sha-Char had also left the cockpits of their Zoids to get a closer look at the battle, following closely behind Ibrik and Officer Giuseppe.

At this close, Ibrik could smell burning flesh and metal wafting from every corner as the four of them gingerly made their way around the titanic fragments of metal and glass with Officer Giuseppe leading the way. They first encountered two Snakes unit, who looked horribly disfigured, torn apart by bullets and apparently some form of acidic weaponry. Ibrik heard Sha-Char stifle a sob as he saw the sight of his fallen comrades and half-expected the lieutenant to lash out at them in blame. When he didn't, it only made Ibrik feel all the more horrible about herself and she found that she could not look at the man, instead choosing to gaze down on her feet as she paced along. Officer Giuseppe seemed to remain emotionless about the entire matter and continued along her walk like nothing around her was perceivable. Ibrik wondered if she was suffering from shellshock.

"Come on, Sha-Char, nothing more we can do," Ibrik heard Zakk say in consolation as he wrapped a hand around Sha-Char and pulled him aside, his free hand holding a first aid kit.

"Ma'am, where are we going?" Ibrik finally summed up the courage to ask her CO.

Officer Giuseppe didn't reply for a moment before they finally arrived at another towering Zoid corpse, this one so damaged that Ibrik didn't even recognize it at first. Its orange canopy was cracked with spider-webs from every imaginable corner with a direct hole where a bullet had entered on it and the large radar-device ears that it had on each side of its skull were splintered, broken with sparking wires dangling out. Its trunk had been smashed, a joint in between snapped and cracked and as Ibrik circled around the Zoid's massive frame, she could see there had been more damage to other parts of its anatomy, the occasional fractured limb or broken piece of armor. There was the faded insignia of the Republic painted on it too. Fire streamed from its body and its fuel was leaking out from its underbelly, causing more fire to form out of the spill. Ibrik could only watch, motionless, as Zakk immediately ran to find if the pilots of the Zoid had survived.

"It's the colonel's." Officer Giuseppe whispered. Ibrik, who stood beside her, thought she had heard wrongly.

"Colonel…as in, Colonel Amadeus?" she asked with a quiver.

When the officer didn't reply, Ibrik knew that her ear had healed completely. As the realization dawned on her, she walked almost trance-like towards the Zoid's cockpit, where the giant hole of a bullet had smashed its canopy apart. _The work of Kreep_, Ibrik mentally knew. Peering inside from the entry wound, slowly and cautiously, Ibrik's eyes widened as she saw a mangled body in there, torn and ripped limb by limb from a single bullet, the body's blood splattered all over the cockpit like some twisted Impressionist painting. Ibrik turned away and stumbled as vomit threatened to lurch out of her throat. Ibrik held her gut and fell onto her bottom, her face green with disgust and sickness. She let out a lurching sound as she slowly recovered. Standing beside her, her commanding officer finally showed the first few signs of discomfort on her face.

"By the Moons…it's…Moons, it's the colonel…" Ibrik managed in between desperate gasps of breath.

Zakk, on the other hand was used to battlefield violence and already knew that the colonel's damage was permanent and fatal. He had instead chose to utilize his skills by running towards a second cockpit that was seemingly located on the Zoid's back, situated to control what appeared to be an anti-air gun mounted on the Zoid. This one was not as badly damaged, and Ibrik gained enough strength by the time they yanked the canopy open to help Zakk and Sha-Char toil to bring the pilot out. Officer Giuseppe approached them with Zakk's field medic kit, clipping it open and setting it down on the still-hot ground as they tried to lay the man in a comfortable position. He was still delirious and was mumbling incoherent sentences when they set him down. Ibrik looked at the man's chest tag, sewn onto the right of his pilot suit.

"Hunte Nomad, 19th ZABN," Ibrik read out the man's name and battalion weakly.

"The Horn…got away…wasn't able to stop him…but…but…" 'Hunte Nomad' hissed but Zakk soothed him down. The soldier looked delirious as his hands fumbled on Zakk's uniform and blood and cuts decorated the whole of his flesh.

"Head out further on to see if you can find any more survivors!" Zakk said as he reached for a defibrillator, abruptly taking charge of the situation, "Split up!"

The three remaining ones weakly complied, even Officer Giuseppe, who was technically the superior in this situation rank-wise, did not argue. They each jogged off to their separate ways, Officer Giuseppe taking the left to scout the Iguans while Sha-Char had reluctantly walked off to the right to clear his head leaving Zakk behind, tending to the soldier named Nomad. Ibrik could only limp onwards, her metal cast making the occasional _clink _with the road and _splash _with the puddles left behind from the heavy rain. The pungent smell of smoldering metal still lingered in the area. A light drizzle soaked her already wet body and Ibrik sniffled, feeling that she was catching a cold. A cold would be the least of her worries though, and her head felt light from lack of rest as she stumbled in an unbalanced manner, almost in drunken-like as she passed by the pieces of the Zoids that had fallen in battle.

The scene before her was breath-taking and upsetting at the same time. The vast columns of smoke made her choke profusely but the sight of dew and rain coated across the armor and gabled roofs, washing off the soot on the blackened ground made her wonder how something so beautiful could be part of something so ugly. There were several dead bodies strewn around as well, most of them Zenebas soldiers and some of the road had cracked and caved in to the massive weight of a Zoid, possibly the Mammoth itself or some other Zoid. The cackling sound of machine-gun fire could still be heard in the distant battle, and Ibrik had to remind herself that the battle was far from over. Amal and Yeil still had to be captured and getting the entire Khamer River back was only half of the entire battle plan to push the Zenebas Empire back into their western territory of the Central Continent. But Ibrik, both mentally and physically, felt defeated and worn out. She felt as though she could go no further and pain snared her every muscle and worry her every thought. Ibrik suddenly thought of Joanna – and how her friend would have reacted in such a situation.

_She'd be strong,_ Ibrik calmed herself down. She had been worried sick about her Sister but had decided not to think about her at all for the remainder of the operation, something that was pretty hard to do. Deep down Ibrik knew Joanna was likely dead but another part of her told Ibrik that Joanna was a fighter – she'd go down fighting. That she would not succumb to cowardice – and even if she did, that she would somehow redeem herself. Joanna was everything that she was not, loyal to a fault, courageous, and a soldier. A soldier at heart. Ibrik gripped her pocket watch tightly, its shape visible through her jacket's fabric as her hand tightened around it. She clenched it with all her might, as though it gave her some strength to keep walking and find others who would need her help and did not release it until she discovered another Zenebas Zoid. Ibrik, even in her state of near collapse, could still recognize the Zoid simply by looking at it.

It was what the Imperial forces had named a 'Gator,' a large lizard-like Zoid with a huge fan-like spine that was modified in two significant ways. For one it was bright red and for another, its spine had been outfitted with such a long and high-caliber rifle that Ibrik knew it had to be a sniper-specific weapon. The two features were ones far too familiar to Ibrik and for a moment she wondered if this could be…the impossible. But then she remembered that there had been decoys too, and another feeling suddenly grasped her heart till it began faster palpitations than it ever had. Ibrik was aware that there had been decoys used, captured soldiers from the Republic so the Republic would not suspect, which they eventually did. Her momentary feeling of triumph had subsided to one of epiphany, then worry, and now fear. Ibrik gulped as she walked towards the Gator and with much struggle, heaving herself up onto the leg of the Zoid. The dirt and muck that had been accumulated on the Zoid's body smeared her hands but Ibrik ignored it and the splitting pain as she balanced herself onto the Gator's leg and walked across the chipped red appendage.

With balance seasoned from her first days at the Zoid academy, where she had first learnt how to board a Zoid regardless of its size, Ibrik jumped over to the main body of the Gator, landing carefully on the vents positioned on either side of the Zoid's body. Even now she could still feel the heat residue from the Zoid core that snaked out of the vents and cautiously, Ibrik sidestepped over to the head of the Gator, gripping the long barrel of the sniper rifle that hung above for extra support before propping herself down and landing on the top of the Zoid's head, her metal cast making another _clink _style sound as she landed. Ibrik then proceeded to search around for the emergency lever that must have been located somewhere around the Gator's head; she had operated captured Imperial Zoids before so she knew there should be one here somewhere. When Ibrik found it however, and pulled it, Ibrik found to her surprise that the cockpit didn't open. No matter how much she tugged, like the lever was stuck – or locked. Her worst fears were confirmed.

_A decoy._ Ibrik soaked in the thought before rushing to work and drawing a collapsible pocket knife that was stored in a sheath strapped to her other foot, the one without a cast. Withdrawing it with expertise, she flicked it open before bending down from her posture on the Gator's head to the red slit beneath it, the glass piece that served as the camera for the clamshell style cockpit. Even though Ibrik felt pain surge through her entire frame, she willed it aside and brought her knife down onto the glass under her with a reciprocating motion, striking cleanly through it on the first blow. Ibrik was surprised that the knife had gotten in at her first try, and with her hand shaking to boot. _Perhaps some form of vapor had compromised the integrity of the glass. No matter, I'd still have had my gun_, Ibrik commented to no one in particular. As she peered in, she could make out the silhouette of somebody inside, sitting unconsciously. The person was wearing brown overalls, so she had no idea if the person was Republican or Imperial. Ibrik earnestly hoped it was the latter as she called out,

"Hello?" Ibrik cried from her upside-down hanging position, "Are you conscious! Hello?"

She peered in. Blood rushed to her head almost instantly and Ibrik saw everything upside down from her point of view. _Can't see a damn thing. _Ibrik raised her knife in the air once more and brought it down on more glass. Then more. Then even more. The Zoid's screen was brittle, and Ibrik found that with even the littlest of force she could snap it like a toothpick. A musty smell seemed to leave the cockpit, an almost _greenish _fume. Then, when Ibrik was satisfied that enough glass had been chipped aside, she swooped back under into the cockpit.

Light swept in from the clearing sky and illuminated the face of the pilot inside the Gator.

"Jo…Joanna?" Ibrik blinked her eyes twice, her voice cracking, "Moons o' Mighty, Joanna, is that you?"

Joanna's eyes flickered and she grunted, in obvious excruciation. Ibrik sighed somewhat in relief. At least she was still alive, but Joanna did not look good. She looked as though she had not eaten in days and sweat streamed from every pore, soaked up by the overalls she wore. Joanna appeared as though she was struggling to breathe and her skin was as pale as a sheet. Somehow…Ibrik knew there was not much time. Her worst fears were now realized.

"Hang on, Sister…just hold on," Ibrik managed weakly as she called out, cupping her hands, "Zakk! Zakk, over here!" Even with her limited strength, Ibrik tried as hard as she could and continued to scream at the top of her lungs until Zakk finally responded with an equally loud cry. Ibrik had been yelling so much that she had barely heard Joanna's faint whispers until she stopped. When she did, she looked at her former Sister, so beaten, so defeated.

"Joanna? Did you say…something?"

"I did it…"

"You…did what?"

Joanna's face managed a small smile, but the darkness that obscured most of her face made it unnerving to Ibrik, almost frightening. Joanna's ghost-like voice answered, struggling with each word, "I did it. I _killed_ Kreep. One shot…" Joanna raised an unsteady hand and pointed in the direction just ahead of her, "…one kil-_AAKHHH_."

Joanna suddenly began to cough, loud violent ones that made her entire body shudder. Phlegm and foam-like froth dripped from her mouth as she shook madly with the force of these coughs. Ibrik could only watch helpless, as Joanna wheezed and struggled to scream, her hands clawing into the sides of her chair, making her nails crack and bleed. In the blackness Joanna's eyes seemed to glow, almost begging to Ibrik for something. Ibrik understood. Small, iridescent tears began to leave Ibrik's eyes, almost comically rolling down onto her forehead. Without so much as a word, Ibrik reached in and grabbed her friend's hand with her left arm. Joanna's nails bit into her skin, making tear-like drops of blood leave Ibrik's skin. Then, with her free hand, Ibrik drew out her sidearm, and thumbed the safety catch to fire mode. She brought her hand down and aimed the pistol at her Sister.

Birds that had nestled on the rooftops of the town scattered as the gunshot reverberated throughout the entire street. The fog that had surrounded Amal for so many hours receded away and far, far in the distance Ibrik could shape out a massive tall tower, with various windows scattered all across it in a rudimentary fashion, positioned where Joanna had been pointing to. And down beneath on its ground level, crumpled and broken in pieces was a Zoid. Ibrik didn't know what it was, but in the light she could see that it was red. Blood red. She got off the Gator and made her way down onto the ground floor, pistol still in hand. With her other hand, she wiped her tears off on her sleeve and grit her teeth tightly, the next word she said whispering through the gaps in them,

"Kreep."

.

.

Up in the air, the whooshing sounds of the bastard Storches soaring by rang in Ibrik's ears. But Ibrik ignored it. Right now, she only had one goal and one wish. Her right hand held her gun tightly, her index shakily placed over the trigger. It was loaded and ready to fire and all Ibrik needed was the person that she had to kill – she had to kill Kreep. As she approached the Zoid that must have fallen off from its high position after…after Joanna had shot it, Ibrik came to realize what the Zoid's malformed and broken body had once been. Her anger almost wavered a little as she understood that Kreep was no new technological advancement or superweapon.

_Kreep's…Kreep's a fucking Molga? _The thought was so incredulous to Ibrik but she still kept her mind steady on her purpose. She had come to kill the engineer of all this destruction. If he was still alive, which chances were he wasn't, possibly the reason why his Imperial allies had abandoned him. Ibrik had boiling anger inside her, and she had to let it out.

She was angry at everyone, at everything. The whole war. The whole operation. Joanna dying…dying at the hands of some Zenebas sniper who was no one special but a pilot with an exceptionally skilled trigger finger. Ibrik was angry at everyone – perhaps even the Moons themselves. If they were watching over their children, the Zoidians, why were they letting wars like these happen? Or was it the humans? Were the humans the reason of so much death? Questions clouded Joanna mind as she walked over pass all the rubble to where the body of Kreep laid, its entire body mauled beyond recognition. A single bullet hole had pierced its side, still smoking. All doubt Ibrik had vanished over the powerful wave of rage that followed as she saw a limping figure making its way out of the Molga's clamshell cockpit, lumbering away as it reached for its pilot helmet and pulled it off its head, tossing it aside. Ibrik kicked into high gear, adrenaline filling her every move.

"Stop! Stop you son of a bitch!" Ibrik called out and the person, a man, turned around in fright.

His face caused Ibrik to stop. And it that moment of hesitation, it gave enough time for the man to draw out a pistol and fire once at Ibrik. The bullet came into contact with her chest and she recoiled back at its velocity, crashing down onto the road, nearly loosing grip of her own sidearm. Ibrik yelped as her elbows smashed on the pavement and she swore as the man struggled to gain some speed and began dashing away from her. Ibrik looked down at her chest. There was a hole where the bullet had punctured her suit…and her breast pocket. But no blood came out. Ibrik didn't even feel anything aside from the usual force that came from a round. Coming instantly to her senses, she got up to her feet and readied her sidearm, aiming it at the man who probably had not even noticed her pouncing right up and still continued, hobbling across towards an alley way. Ibrik lined the gun's sights together as she tightened her index finger around the trigger.

The man continued to run off, hobbling weakly into another alley way, the darkness swallowing him whole. He ran onwards, further and further until Ibrik could no longer see him. Ibrik watched the man walk off into the alley before disappearing completely into the shadows. Her heart was beating wildly and her hands gripped the pistol tightly, still aimed at the alley. Her hand trembled ever so slightly and the gun rocked with the motions as her heavy breathing filled her ears. Then finally, her arms gave way and she lowered the barrel of the pistol. Ibrik had let the man free…just as the man had let _her_ free, during what seemed like so many days ago.

"Ibrik!"

Ibrik turned around to find Officer Giuseppe running up to her. She quickly slipped her gun back into her holster and turned to face her, carefully averting her eyes away from the alley that the man had slipped into.

"I heard a shot?" the officer asked in between pants.

"N-No, ma'am. Just thought….just thought I saw something. Was nothing, just mind playing tricks on me…"

"Alright then…" Officer Giuseppe replied, eyeing her somewhat suspiciously. She then pivoted her head up and saw the Storches soaring past, their trails leaving white streaks in the sky, "Come on, we have to head out. Storm's cleared out, we've established contact. We're to rendezvous with another detachment."

"Yes ma'am."

Ibrik looked at her commanding officer. Officer Giuseppe had turned her back on Ibrik and walked off to meet up with Zakk and Sha-Char already, her shoulders staunch and her boots cracking against the detritus. As soon as Ibrik was sure that the gunnery officer was not looking in her direction, Ibrik turned back to face the alley. Officer Giuseppe's sudden question made her jolt in surprise and avert her eyes from the pathway:

"Did you see the Molga outside? Must've been another decoy."

"Huh? Oh yeah…must've…" Ibrik answered absent-mindedly. Out of the corner of her eye she could spy the alley.

Her officer did a small nod and then turned around, walking down the street again. Ibrik took another fleeting look at the dark alley. Then, she looked away and followed after Officer Giuseppe, never looking back.


	8. Epilogue

**Excerpt from human poem, '**_**Dulce Et Decorum Est**_**'**

**Written by British soldier and poet, Wilfred Owen**

**Circa 1917 – 1918 C.E.**

_If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood  
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs  
Bitter as the cud  
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,  
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest  
To children ardent for some desperate glory,  
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori*_

_*Translated from Latin: _It is sweet and honorable to die for one's country

.

**One month later**

**0928 hours, Oct 8****th**

**Helic City, capital of the Helic Republic**

"Amadeus," Claudia said as she put down her cup of tea. The sweet herbal aroma of the tea simmered in the autumn air. The capital of the Republic, Helic City, was brimming with life today.

Chaplain Titus, who sat across from her, smiled a crooked smile before replying, "Amadeus. Amadeus Giuseppe."

"Not too corny?"

"Kor-_nee_? I don't quite follow your vernacular."

"Never mind then."

"An interesting name choice. An eponymous ode, if you will, Officer."

"Call me Claudia," Claudia replied as she reached for the cup again, her fingers encircling its grip with steel firmness, "Just what little I could do…tribute, you know?"

"Understandable," the chaplain answered impassively, "Isn't it a little late to name your child now?"

"Why? Zoidians don't get names until they're of age."

"I mean by human standards."

"Guess so."

"Amadeus Giuseppe…" the chaplain repeated, emphasizing the newly christened name.

"I didn't know he'd be piloting a Zoid until much later…" Claudia said as she brought the cup to her lips and sipped on the steamy liquid goodness before placing it down again before speaking, "In a way I feel sort of guilty, I guess. Maybe I inspired him?"

"That you did," the chaplain said in rough agreement, "His words: 'An officer of mine has taken it into her own hands to fulfill her mission.' Something like that, if memory serves me right. I told him he wouldn't be able to see the fruits of his labors, and now look, Kreep's killed him. If he had stayed behind, he might still be breathing."

"I wouldn't." Claudia was beginning to feel mildly put off by the chaplain's factual bluntness. In some ways the man almost mirrored her own personality.

The chaplain sighed a weary sigh, "Thank the Moons for that, then. Life is a strange thing, honestly. What the Moons can give – they can also take. Of course, you don't believe in that, do you? Atheism is one of your race's darkest concepts."

"I'd call myself an agnostic," Claudia replied factually. She took a look around her.

The metropolitan Helic City was the most 'developed' and advance locale on the face of the Central Continent, the cornerstone of civilization on Zi. A diverse and multicultural blend of various Zoidian tribes and human design, tall slick skyscrapers rose from every street and the flamboyant patterns and designs of the Zoidian tribes decorated them, creating a unique architectural mixture that flowed seamlessly with each another. The inhabitants seemed to never pause and back away, taking it all in but rather appeared to drift along with the crowds, never stopping to gaze upon or marvel at their city. Thousands of faces, all almost identical in Claudia's eyes walked past her and the chaplain's table in the coffee-house. Their expressions ranged from happiness to boredom to aggressive cursing but in each one was a distinct personality. Soon, Claudia's own son, the newly christened Amadeus Giuseppe would be like that too.

Claudia smiled in irony as her nine-year old son stumbled up to her from the sea of people, led by the elderly couple who had taken him under their wing. He was small, and Claudia had feared that he would be trampled – but there was something about the boy that she had recognized in him. The will to survive, a soldier's instinct. _Probably inherited by his father_, Claudia thought, smiling once more. The chaplain followed her eyes to the young youth, who walked up and down the street, eyeing everything with a newborn's curiosity.

"A beautiful child you have there," Chaplain Titus complimented.

"Isn't he?" Claudia answered in agreement, "So much like his father."

"Well…" the chaplain began, seemingly searching for the right words before asking, "Is there a reason behind this congregation? I'm given to understand that people of your position don't sit around and have cups of coffees and idle small talk with clerics. Is there some sort of…advice you need?" The chaplain seemed to use the word _advice _as delicately as he could.

"No, not advice….just…I just want to know why the colonel went to you. I just wanted to know…why he went on that Zoid. What did you tell him that made him get in the cockpit one last time? What did you say the first time he went to you?" Claudia's voice was rising unevenly by the last sentence.

"Are you insinuating that I'm the ca-" Chaplain Titus began, looking absolutely offended.

"No!" Claudia cut in, before lowering her voice and trying once more to be firm, "No…that's not what I meant, chaplain. Honest. I just wanted to know…_why _he did it."

"There's no reason behind it. He did it out of emotion. When he came to me, he had lost all hope; he finally fell back on the Moons, and only when he was backed to a corner. An old and out of shape man pass his prime. A string of failures, that's what happened to him," the chaplain seemed to slow down now, taking in deep, sharp breaths, "He was afraid to lose his status. His offensive operations had already been largely diminishing and announcement of Kreep's arrival struck the colonel hard. He probably thought that he'd rather give it his all than face a demotion. Better go down fighting, as you might say. That's why he got on that Zoid."

Claudia felt disappointed. She had thought that getting into contact with the chaplain would have put more insight into the colonel's decision. There had been gnawing guilt in her heart ever since they had been saved by Colonel Amadeus and she had feared that it was her own choice that led the colonel to follow after; the only difference between them being that the colonel would be alright if he didn't come back. She had read the AAR, and learnt that the colonel had taken the initiative himself to save her. Claudia wanted to know why and now that she did, a cutting sadness sunk in – for a great man who had been bogged down by the war around him. Still, there was a faint glimmer of home in Claudia's heart, and she asked the chaplain,

"Maybe he did go into battle…for _those _reasons…" Claudia began, as she gathered her thoughts, the sentimentality of the words she was about to say seemed to cross any line of logic she had ever had before, but Claudia sensed like the words had to be spoken, "But do you think…maybe in the end, he found out the true reason he was fighting for? That perhaps…" Claudia looked in the distance at the bobbing shape of her son who was now walking back towards them, "…perhaps he realized he was fighting for his soldiers. In his last moments he went down shooting not because he feared for his own future…but because he feared for the futures of his troops? Maybe the country did not mean as much as…the people…"

Claudia ended her disjointed reasoning hanging, leaving the final words unfinished as she uncomfortably shifted in her seat. She studied the chaplain. Chaplain Titus seemed to consider the possibility for what seemed like a long time, an almost awkward break in conversation. Finally, the chaplain reached down for his cup of tea and sipped on it thoughtfully, seemingly pondering the implications of Claudia's suggestion, which now sounded strange and almost childlike to Claudia's ears as she looked back in retrospect. As the chaplain set his cup down, he spoke alas,

"I can't say for certain…as I'm not him. But he did tell me…that this was his duty. This was where he belonged."

"This?"

"The army," the chaplain explained, "He said he'd have nowhere else to go if he didn't succeed now. To him…this was the…the thin red line."

For the first time in ages…a strange emotion fluttered in Claudia's heart as every trace of pragmatism she ever had receded away. Sympathy. An emotion she had restrained and held back for so long, that finally overflowed into Claudia. When her husband had died, all she had gotten was sympathy…and she had thought that it had weakened her, made her lose the will to rise from the ashes. But now? The colonel's words…those were words she could relate to; that she could understand...could sympathize. _If there was no Army…me…I'd be lost…_In death, was when Claudia finally understood her superior…feeling as though they were kindred spirits. She now regretted she had not got to know the man better. _This is all I have…_

Amadeus Giuseppe abruptly emerged from the crowd and dashed towards his mother, his hand holding what appeared to be a rather generous portion of fruit cake as the pastry coated around his lips. His adoptive godparents walked along right behind him, beaming their friendly smiles. Claudia looked at them, then her son, young and vital. So full of life. Life.

_Not all…the army isn't all I have…_

_.  
_

**Two years later, ZAC 2035**

**2118 hours, Sep 12****th**

**Town of **_**Aβesch**_**, Delpoi**

"_By the Moons, Scylla, are you asleep again?" Joanna's voice roared over the intercom. Slowly, almost achingly Ibrik patched herself into the intercom and answered. The three moons above them were gleaming in the night sky._

"_Shut up…" Ibrik whined into the line, still somewhat asleep._

"_Damn it, Ibrik! Get your ass up!"_

"_Just lemme sleep…" Ibrik mumbled._

"_Get out, get out! How are we ever gonna get any Zenebas bastards if you sit your ass on there all day?"_

"_Night, actually."_

"_Whatever!" Joanna huffed, "You're gonna miss that golden opportunity when it comes!"_

"_Alright, alright! I'll stay awake! If you were in my cockpit, you'd see my eyes are wide open!" Ibrik's eyes were in actuality, shut tight, she was curled up in a fetal position on her seat, her safety harness unfastened, "It's not as though we're actually gonna meet the enemy anyways…"_

"_You never know…"_

"_Joanna, we've been at these patrols for over eight months now and we've never even seen a single Zenebas mongrel peep its head out! Face it, we got pulled off the front-lines and we're never going to go back there. We'll just spend our da- our nights here….in silent reserve."_

"_Just because there's nothing, doesn't mean we're not expected to do our job."_

"_Oh Moons, you're going to pull that patriotic crap again, aren't you?"_

"Ibrik?"

"_Patriotic crap? Ibrik, maybe you don't feel any allegiance to the Republic, but believe me, I'll serve the mighty Helic's memory to the day I die. If you won't shape up, I'm afraid I'll have to report to my superiors regarding your less than remarkable performance! Do you really want that, another Sister?"_

_Ibrik paused for a moment before answering. "You wouldn't."_

"_Yes I would."_

"_No….you wouldn't dare."_

"_I'm already considering it."_

"_You wouldn't."_

"…_.OK, fine I wouldn't but that's besides the point."_

_Ibrik laughed and she could hear Joanna release a tense chuckle as well over the line. Ibrik sat back in an upright position and clipped her harness together. The town of Yeil looked so beautiful tonight, the moonlight highlighting every alcove and parapet, putting a delightfully shimmering trim on every line and face of the town's magnificent architecture. Not a single part of it had been touched by the war, unlike the towns of the Red River, these Khamer River ones were still pristine and free from conflict._

"_Alright, alright," Ibrik said, admitting defeat, "I'm sorry, I'll sit upright now."_

"Um…Ibrik?"

"_Thank you. See, that's not so hard right?"_

"_Funny."_

_Another silence fell between the two. Not one of awkwardness and uncertainty…but one of mutual understanding and companionship. After several moments of it, Ibrik found boredom slowly creeping in and broke the silence with a question:_

"_Joanna, do you ever think about death?"_

_The question seemed to catch Joanna off-guard, "Death? Why're you being so morbid?"_

"_Nothing, just curious. Like…are you afraid of death?"_

"_Yeah….I guess, I'm kinda afraid of it," Joanna replied slowly, as though she was thinking it through, "Hell yeah I'm afraid of death. Sometimes I spend my nights in bed thinkin' about it, you know?"_

"_What if…one of us dies?"_

_Joanna made a tsking sound with her lips, "What's with all these questions about death? You feeling alright?"_

"_No, I'm fine…just that, I was wondering about it. Food for thought; say I get killed. What would you do?"_

_Joanna pondered over the question for a moment before giving a quick-fire reply, "Standard KIA procedures I suppose. Send your belongings to your family and family cleric, attend your funeral etc etc."_

"_What about my pocket watch, you gonna send that to my family too?"_

"_Hhn….admittedly no. I'd probably keep it." Then Joanna turned the tables of the conversation, "What about you, Ibrik? What would you do if I died?"_

"_Shoot that rat-ass bastard who killed you in between the eyes."_

"_I appreciate the whole vengeance thing going on but what are the chances of you finding my killer in this muddled up war?"_

"_I don't know, but I sure as hell wouldn't give up trying to find him or her."_

"_Do me a favor…if I die, don't do anything stupid."_

"_Stupid? The hell you talking about?"_

"_Just…you know what I mean. And take care of my father too, he's all alone now you know…and its lonely for him without Mother. If you can, try to visit him, aight?"_

"_Stop talking like you're gonna die, Moons, it's creeping me out."  
_

"_Hey, just taking preemptive measures…"_

"_Don't be silly; what are the chances of the mighty Joanna dying?"_

"Ibrik?"

Ibrik blinked her eyes. Where was she? It took several moments for her vision to stop blurring before Ibrik could make out the humble village cottage that she was in. Wind breezed in from the open windows and the curtains shook with its gentle force. Moonlight crept in from the sanguine skies that loomed overhead, mesonoxian in appearance. Just sitting directly across Ibrik's seat on the opposing side of the table, a skinny old man with gentle eyes that hid a serious personality gazed at her with genuine concern. Ibrik studied the man's features for a while, noting the resemblance – the blue eyes, the physiognomy of his face, the sharp nose and curved lips. Ibrik looked at Joanna's father.

"You alright, Ibrik?" the old man asked carefully, "You looked like you were….daydreaming?"

"Um-uh, sorry sir. I'm alright, just a little tired is all," Ibrik said, flustered. Her mind had been wandering too often nowadays, she needed to stay focused but somehow she never could. She glanced down at the _kheker _board in between her seat and Mr. Don's, a black and white hexagonal grid with red and blue hexagon counters atop it. Absent-mindedly she pushed one counter forward with her index finger. Mr. Don's eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

"Ibrik, maybe we ought to take a break a little, huh?"

"A break?" Ibrik asked, confused, "Why, sir?"

"For one you look exhausted," the man said before smiling, "And for another you just moved your piece vertically instead of diagonally."

Ibrik looked down at the board. Sure enough her own blue counter had been shifted forward instead of the traditional diagonal pattern of movement found in the Zoidian board game of _kheker_. Ibrik felt her cheeks go ever so slightly red as she nodded her head in apology, "Sorry, sir…must've got confused with another game."

"Another game?" Mr. Don asked as he paced over to his cottage's little pantry. Life out here in rural areas was simple and agrarian, and Ibrik found herself salivating as her nostrils sucked in the aroma of the tea Mr. Don was preparing as he continued his rhetorical question, "I've never ever heard of a game where the pieces move forward…aside from a few schoolyard variants of _shima_ I've played as a child…" His mind seemed to drift off into better years.

"Oh…I don't know what came over me, I guess….sir…" But inside Ibrik knew full well why she had done that. Memories began to seep into her mind, memories that she had kept under lock and key for so long but always haunted her – every day and every night. The human game that she had played with Kreep…the man's voice seemed to replay itself in her head, saying the rules of the game over and over again. Ibrik shook her head as if to ward it off just as Mr. Don turned around with two steaming cups of tea, the smoke sifting off of their lids. Ibrik froze as she looked up and saw Mr. Don's figure looking down at her. Without so much as a word, he sat back on his seat and offered Ibrik a cup.

As Ibrik's fingers circled around the cup while Mr. Don's own hand, held on, hers and Mr. Don's eyes locked with each other as he spoke her mind,

"I know, I miss her too."

Ibrik felt a slight tinge in her heart as Mr. Don spoke, almost as though he had read her mind. How'd he even know what she was thinking? Had her eyes betrayed her? Ibrik kept these thoughts to herself as she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip and nodded in gratitude. She flinched a little at the heat of the drink but ignored it as the searing warm tea burned her tongue and descended down through her throat. The heat seemed to burn through her skin and seemingly shielded her from the cold wind that blew in from the windows. Mr. Don made no move to close these windows but appeared as though he was no longer with Ibrik. His eyes now had a wistful quality to them, a sort of look that Ibrik had never seen on Joanna's face but could agree that it might appear on Joanna's…had she ever had the chance to outlive her father. Mr. Don seemed a thousand miles away now and Ibrik quietly sat there, drinking her tea, making no move to shift the conversation along. A peace settled between the two of them.

Mr. Don's words had struck a chord inside Ibrik. Her thoughts went to Joanna's funeral. It had been a short and relatively painless ceremony; Ibrik had dressed up in traditional tribal funeral garments, sprayed Joanna's crematory ashes into the water to symbolize returning back to Zi, and met with her own parents for consolation. She had also met Mr. Don, telling him that Joanna had died a valiant death, having had died from some human concoction known as '_chlorine_' gas. According to Doc Fitz, the Empire's human scientists had managed to develop it using substitutions from Zi for the original chemicals, producing a gas roughly similar to the original. She'd left the part about her mercy killing out though; Mr. Don did not need to know that and thankfully the consolation telegram sent by the Army had not included that as well.

What little Ibrik knew of the vapor that had killed Joanna was that it had been first developed in the very first modern war of the human race and was, ironically enough, now being used in what could arguably be the first modern war of the Zoidian race. Ibrik had only told Mr. Don as much as she had known, and they found comfort in each other, knowing that Joanna had gone down fighting and achieved the impossible. Ibrik had also shown Joanna's father the pocket watch that had been damaged during her encounter with Kreep. He had offered to fix it but Ibrik had declined…somehow it now seemed like an extension now…a part of her.

Ibrik took it out of her pocket now. She had been carrying it along with her since the day of the funeral, to her it seemed to give her some sort of supernatural strength. Flipping it open, she could see the hole on the lid where the bullet had entered and could still make out the round lodged within the clock, having cracked the glass and frozen the hands of time – literally. She glanced down and saw the hole where the bullet had entered, tearing apart the inscription on it. She could still see it though. _One shot, one kill_. If the pocket-watch had not been in her breast pocket when she was shot, Ibrik would have died right there and then. Joanna's gift had saved her, and as naive as it might seem, that Joanna was watching over her like a…as some humans might say, _guardian angel_.

"You sure you don't want that fixed?"

Ibrik looked up at Mr. Don, who was thoughtfully hunched over his tea. Ibrik smiled sheepishly as she answered, "Not really, sir. This…I feel like the bullet needs to stay there."

"Why?" Mr. Don sounded like he completely understood Ibrik's stand and was asking a question he already knew. Ibrik wondered if it was because of the man's experience as a soldier in the older days of the Republic, also possibly the source of Joanna's deep belief in the nation.

"I don't know, sir…" Ibrik's voice turned quiet and reflective as she tried to sum up her thoughts, "Just…just something, you know….like, I feel…I feel it reminds me that…" Ibrik's voice began to strain and crack, "…that Joanna didn't die for 'nothin. She died for us. For me." Ibrik covered her face in her hands and the clock as well, ashamed that she was snapping like this, in front of Joanna's father no less. She had wanted her to take care of him, not the other way around. Ibrik grit her teeth as she willed herself to keep the tears in. There was sadness within her, but the anger within was far more powerful.

Mr. Don didn't seem even the least bit surprised at Ibrik's emotional outburst but his tone was soft…fatherly as he spoke, "She was the only family I had left." He placed a hand on her shoulder consolingly, "Now I'm alone, Ibrik. But…I'd like to find peace that my child did not die for nothing."

"That she died…so that _you_ might to do something worthwhile with the time you still have on this world."

.

.

When Ibrik found Joanna, dying within the cockpit of an enemy Zoid, one might have expected her spirit to be crushed. In truth, Ibrik's had been. After she killed Joanna out of mercy, anger and rage had blinded her every rational thought but when she learnt that Kreep had in fact, had not been killed, and when she learnt of the man's identity…there was doubt in her heart. Ibrik did not want to admit it until much later that she had let the man go out of free will, out of her own choice. Not of surprise or indecision. She had done it because she had thought it had been the right thing to do at the time…but looking back, Ibrik was not so sure anymore.

After they had successfully secured the entire Khamer River region and Ibrik's service was complete, she was in a near-shock state. Confusion had swirled around her and Ibrik had no idea what she had just done and why she had to do it. It was only when Ibrik's rotation on the front-lines was complete and she didn't reenlist that Ibrik finally understood herself. The days had been long and the nights sleepless for Ibrik as she distanced herself from the war for nearly two years. During that time Ibrik had done nothing with her life, she had not accomplished anything at all; had never even come to terms if what she had done was the right thing. She still did not know.

Joanna had killed Kreep, right after Kreep had killed Colonel Amadeus. It seemed to be a messed string of events. She and Officer Giuseppe had made the wrong choice which led to Amadeus rescuing them, Kreep killing him, before Joanna killing Kreep before dying herself. But though Joanna had succeeded in demobilizing the Molga Zoid that was Kreep, she had not killed the pilot. In fact, it seemed almost right that Ibrik shoot the man and complete the job, avenging her friend's life but in truth, it was not. It wasn't fair. None of it was.

Ibrik thought about what that mysterious human had said when he had saved her life. _Soldiers…always go forward, never back. These guys can never go wherever they want, they're stuck there._ It was true; in a way…now that Ibrik looked at it from a different perspective, every soldier in the war was nothing but an ordinary person just trying to live their life. No one asked for a war, no one asked for death or destruction. Kreep did not ask to have Republican decoys…or kill so many in the process. Ibrik sometimes wondered if Kreep even _knew _of the strategy being used, considering that he had risked his own life to save her, another Republican soldier. She found mixed emotions whenever she thought of Kreep. In a way it was nobody's fault – nobody started the war, but somebody had to end it. And those 'somebodies' were people like Ibrik herself.

Ibrik thought back to the chilling words of Kreep, the human, _in this game, soldiers never win._ They won the war, but they never received the credit or reaped the fruits of their success. _These little soldiers to be fodder…_Ibrik recalled the man's words, _to weaken the enemy or die trying._ The soldiers of an army…they didn't go out on the field expecting for glory or to die for their country. They only wanted to die for their people. Their fellow…beings, for lack of a better word. Two years, it had taken Ibrik to comprehend that…and taking one day at a time, she finally did.

It had been nearly two years now…two years of silent peace for Ibrik, but no peace to the war. A foolish war started by some dumb border dispute over a single river. The war had not finished and there seemed to be no end in sight. Ibrik had avoided any medium of news regarding it for two whole years now, but now Ibrik felt as though she was needed once more. Like the war needed people like her to be in it. Needed ordinary people to be soldiers. Ibrik had taken her time to heal; her leg was fine now, her body's strength replenished, and her teeth surgically replaced. Ibrik had been watching on the sidelines too long and it was finally time for her to step up and no longer just be a substitute for the other players in the war. It was her time to get on the field. On the battlefield.

The vast expanse of greenery that surrounded the exterior of the cottage looked down on her. Ibrik stood silent atop the hill; right outside the door of Mr. Don's home and gazed at the darkness ahead, watching the moonlight illuminate every feature of the field. The wind seemed to creep into her clothing and touch her skin and Ibrik folded her arms to keep herself warm as she shivered in the night. A large flag of the Republic that Mr. Don had impaled into the dirt swayed with the wind as well, the blue 'Z' character with its silver ring folding each time the flag trembled. Ibrik pivoted her head upwards at the three Moons that rotated the planet. Their gentle light made them stand in contrast with the blackness of the clouds and they radiated an opalescent beauty to all who beheld them. Ibrik wondered if Joanna was somewhere up there, keeping an eye on her like she always did.

_Guess you've got the highest kill score for now, eh?_ Ibrik thought and for the first time in quite awhile, Ibrik smiled. Her cheeks seemed to feel relieved as her lips curved in that upwards position and a flickering ember of what she had once been a long time ago began to burn inside her once more. A soldier. She had been a reckless youth once but after she had experienced war, Ibrik felt like she was reborn from the ashes. The Army needed more soldiers and Ibrik knew what she had to do now.

Without even so much as a backwards glance, Ibrik walked down the rolling slope of the hill, her boots crunching on the dirt and her hand tightly gripping the pocket watch that shone in the Moons' gaze. She was ready for round two.


End file.
